


After Shock

by VioletGreen



Series: After Shock Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Big Brother Mycroft, Comfort/Angst, Crazy Jim, Daddy Kink, Dark, Dark Jim, Drug Use, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Friendship/Love, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Killing, M/M, Making this up as I go along, Multi, Mycroft Feels, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jim, Possessive Sherlock, Protective John, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sherlock Loves John, Torture, obsessed Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 82,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletGreen/pseuds/VioletGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My story got deleted by accident. Sorry everyone. Here it is again though.</p><p>John has been kidnapped and he has no idea who would and why. He was old news. The brilliant Consulting Detective was dead so why would anyone pay any mind to him? He was weak and worthless. It didn't make since.<br/>However, opening his eyes and finds he is not the only one who had been kidnapped (Molly, Greg, Irene, Sally, Anderson and someone else they thought would be untouchable.) John's heart breaks to the realization of who is behind it and finding no hope in sight for anyone to come to their rescue. How will they get out of this one or are they doomed to the spider's web forever?</p><p>“There are no thirteen scenarios you can choose from on how this is going to end my dear. No, one to save them and no one to save you, which I must say, I am rather pleased with myself."</p><p>This takes John to almost the darkest places of his psyche and deep down he feels like he must make a choice. But, with the past closing in around him and looking to the future, it's unclear to him what he should do. Facing off against a 'old foe', John must decide what would truly make him happy. </p><p>"Thank you for your wonderful comments and please enjoy!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SOOO SORRY THIS GOT DELETED GUYS!
> 
> I do have someone helping me with grammar and the errors on here. Once I am done posting it back up I will go back and fix it.
> 
> Please Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to shout out a BIG thank you to jokinglyviola for helping me with typos and grammar. It's a slow process but working on it. YOU'RE THE BEST! THANK YOU! 
> 
> Thank you for reading though and the comments are wonderful.

The first thing John noticed when he started to came to was the horrid headache he had. It was pounding and it felt like needles stabbing him in the back of his neck. He instantly wished for some Tylenol or maybe something stronger to kill the pain. The second thing that he noticed, which put his senses on over drive, was of a coppery smell he knew all too well from his days in the war. It was the smell of blood. His body suddenly turned on soldier survival instinct mode (which meant trying to keep himself perfectly still and as calm as possible) as the doctor instinct took over his mind.

He began to quickly assess his injuries. The pain was in the back of his head which meant his abductors must have been standing behind him when the attack accrued. Slowly, he moved his head back, trying to not to alert his abductors that he was conscious. He felt a stickiness to the back of his neck; understanding now why he smelled blood. So more than likely he had a small concussion, which meant he had to remain awake. God, he felt frustrated and not to mention angry. For one, he couldn’t recall where he was when the attack accrued or who he was with. His mind was so cloudy and it made him feel on edge for the lack of not knowing. Why in the hell was he attacked to begin with? That was a good question that his brain was having a hard time trying to process in order to come up with any answers. So, John moved on.

His body ached so as he tried to move, to stretch out his aching muscles, he quickly realized he couldn’t. He was sitting upright in a chair, and began to try and slowly flex his wrists, but he felt them bound to the arms of the chair. The ropes were tight and biting into his skin the more he tried to flex them to free himself. It was painful. Whoever had kidnapped him really knew how to keep their hostages bound so they couldn’t get away. It wasn’t a very confronting thought, far from it actually, but he still had to try, didn’t he? Then, he tried to move his legs but they too were bound at his ankles to the legs of the chair. Those ropes were also biting into his skin there too but he still tried to move them to see if he could possible free himself. It was just as painful which made him stop. John couldn’t help think that this was a bit not good.

 _Great_ , he thought, _Now, what?_

John had no clue as to who would kidnap him and why. He was old news. No one could possibly care about him, right? Well, maybe Mycroft. He could see the elder Holmes kidnap him since he had practically locked himself away in 221B since…John frozen. His body shook slightly as he forcefully tried to push those thoughts out of his mind. Tomorrow would be 2 years since that day and right now wasn’t the time to think on it...on him. But, the memory crawled its way past his barriers. He couldn’t face his family or friends even though they wanted to help by coming around to check up on him to make sure he was alright. What they didn’t understand was they were reminders of what once was. His world came to an end the moment he saw his friend, his best friend, fall to his death.

He tried once more to push those painful memories away when he suddenly felt the edge of a blade press lightly against his cheek. John felt his body stiffen. He did not wish to move for the fear of the blade cutting into his skin.

“I know you are awake, pet. Time to open your eyes and face reality,” a male voice purred just mere inches from his ear.

John tried to remain still but his body gave way to an involuntary shiver which he was sure did not go unnoticed. Suddenly he forced his mind to shift tracks to his captor’s voice. John was 90% sure he had never heard the man’s voice before, let alone knew him. But, the nickname did not go unnoticed either. There was only one man, John had met, that had called him “pet” and he knew for a fact that that man was dead. Mycroft himself looked over the body and confirmed himself that Jim Moriarty was dead. There was no way the elder Holmes would lie about something like that, right?

So, who was this man and why would he kidnap him? He was just a broken down ex-army doctor who couldn’t face the world…again. All his purpose in life was taken from him _That Day_ and John still felt as though he couldn’t move on. He was worthless and weak, so why would anyone bother with him? It didn’t make sense.

John felt a little more force as the blade pushed a little harder against his cheek. His captor’s lips still too close to his ear while his warm breath dance over his neck. “Come now Doctor Watson; let us not keep our guests waiting, hm?”

Suddenly John’s eyes flew open at the sound of his name. Pure terror flashed violently across his features at the scene before him. It had seemed he was not the only one that had been kidnapped as he let his eyes drifted from one pair of fearful eyes to another. He went down the row, starting with the closest person to him and was truly in bewildered to see her alive. Irene Alder was staring at him with pleading eyes; a mixture of hurt and comfort within them. Maybe she was trying to beg him to forgive her perhaps? He wasn’t entirely for sure but now wasn’t the time to be thinking on it.

Then, he broke her gaze, letting his sights drift to meet those of one Greg Lestrade’s. There was an understanding there between the DI and himself, knowing something like this was bound to have happened eventually being in the company of one Consulting Detective. However, his flatemate was dead. Surely there must be another reason for this and John was getting anxious to find out what that was.

John’s gaze moved on to, oh god, Molly Hooper. _No, not Molly._ Why was she here? She had nothing to do with any of this, whatever this was. She was innocent in all of this, not to mention the other two that were on the other side of her. There sat Sally Donovan and Philip Anderson. All three looked terrified, like they wanted to curl in on themselves like they weren’t really here. Like this was some kind of horrible dream and they would wake up at any moment. But, John knew better. They all were bound to a chair and gagged so they could not speak to him but they didn’t need too. Their eyes told John all he needed to know which forced him back into soldier survival instinct mode since more lives were at stake. He had to make sure he was going to get them out of this alive. Whatever this was, it was his fault, John knew it was and nothing or no one could change his mind to think otherwise.

Suddenly, the man that had been behind him, in one quick fluent motion, was now standing before him with a mischievous smile on his face. John tried not to flinch but knew he must have failed seeing the madman’s face beam. It was very disturbing but John was trying his best to keep his composer as best he could.

So, instead John looked over his abductor and noticed that the man was slightly taller than himself, with ginger hair, cut short like a military style hair cut and dark blue-grey eyes. Which were boring into his own. The blade that had been pressed against his cheek was no longer there but it was still in the ginger haired man's hand. He held it up into view to make sure John kept his attention solely on him. Well, it worked. John found himself unable to turn his gaze away from the redhead before him not wanting to find out what would happen if his gaze flickered in away.

“Well, hello there. Glad you finally decided to join the party Doctor Watson. I’m sure my employer will be most pleased to start sooner than expected,” the ginger muttered as he pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and proceeded to type something out on it. “He has always had a curiosity towards you because of _him_.” When he was done, the ginger replaced his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back on John. “It seems my employer wants to know what makes you tick and I must say this game seems to be by far his best he has ever come up with, don’t you think doctor?”

John said nothing. He just stared up at the ginger's face with a mixture of anger, pain and annoyance on his face, or as best he could mange.

The ginger’s brow furrowed, acting like he was hurt by John’s expression. “Oh, come now Doctor Watson. Don’t be like that,” the ginger cooed, reaching out with the knife towards John’s chest as a smile crept back onto his face. “I know I would like to have a little fun of our own. Would you like that Doctor Watson?”

The blade now rested against the top button of John’s dark blue button down shirt and with a light flick of the redhead’s wrist the button popped off, revealing a little of John’s skin and chest hair underneath. John tried not to struggle or flinch away as the ginger watched his face intently with every button he cut away. Finally with the last button removed, the ginger forcefully pulled back on John’s shirt so his front was exposed to him.

“I can see why _he_ had a thing for you, Doctor Watson. You look so incredibly delicious.” Just then, the ginger reached the blade out towards John’s chest and pressed the blade against his bare skin. John couldn’t help but winced as the ginger pushed, but only hard enough that a trickle of blood began to run down his chest. John gritted his teeth trying hard not to flinch away in fear of the blade digging in deeper.

“There we are,” The redhead purred as he pulled his hand away to admire his handy work. “It’s so much better when they bleed.” The redhead smile darkened as he brought the blade up to his own mouth. John could not look away while he watched the lunatic lick the blood (his blood) off the knife. It made John cringe. _What the fuck?_ The redhead was moving the knife once again towards John’s chest when there was a small whimper coming from the other hostages.

John began to panic when the redhead’s gaze turned from his to the others, which he was sure, the lunatic had _forgotten_ about. At least up until now. The redhead turned his gaze back towards John and asked, “Would you like to watch me play with one of them Doctor Watson?”

John swallowed…hard. However, he knew he needed to do something because there was no way in hell he was going to let this lunatic touch them. Shaking his head violently, he snarled, “This is between us. Leave them out of this.”

The redhead laughed which sent chills up and down John’s spine. “Oh, pet,” the redhead said while he chuckled like John said something bemusing to him. However, John was not amused. Instead he started to panic when he watched the redhead slither his way over behind Molly and watched helplessly as he placed a hand on either of her shoulders which made her jump and whimper through her gag.

“No, please,” John cried. He began to struggle against his restraints even though it only rubbed the skin raw. “I’ll…I’ll do…whatever you want. Please, just leave them alone.”

The ginger’s gripped tighten on Molly’s shoulders. A predatory grin crept across his features as he stared at John. “God, you have no idea what I would love to do to you. However, that isn’t my call to make. So, forgive me Doctor Watson for turning down such a delectable offer.” He moved his lips down to the nap of Molly’s neck and lightly pressed his lips against her. It made her flinch and tried to pull away but the ginger’s grip tightened even more and he pulled her back to him. She screws her eyes tightly shut as silent tears begin to run down her cheeks. Before the ginger spoke again he moved his lips to her ear but what he said next, he made sure it was loud enough for John to hear. “Don’t worry Ms. Hopper. I can be gentle as long as you don’t test me.”

“NO!” John shouted. He began to fight his restrains even harder, ignoring the pain in his wrists, along with the blood that started to drip from them and onto the floor “Leave her alone! Leave them alone! They have nothing to do with this! I swear to god if you hurt them I will kill you, you bastard!”

The redhead glared at John as he stood back up. His face softened as he walked back over in front of John. “I know you would Doctor Watson, if given the chance that is. But, do you really think you will get that chance though? I mean, let’s be relics here, shall we? Everyone close to you in some form or another is here. No one is coming to save you Doctor Watson and do you want to know why?”

John didn’t want to ask why but he had a horrible feeling if he didn’t ask then something even worse was going to happen. But, he also didn’t want to play this game. So, instead he spat, “Go to hell.”

The ginger grinned, pleased with John’s response. “Okay, then,” the redhead said as he turned and took no more than two steps towards the hostages when John yelled him to stop. The ginger stopped, while turning back to John, he murmured, “You know how to play Doctor Watson. Please do not disappoint _him_.”

John just stared up at his captor for a moment. When the ginger mentioned something about a “him” before John felt like he knew who the lunatic had been talking about. But now, he wasn’t really for sure on what the ginger was rambling on about. John let out a deep sigh. He was not defeated, not yet at least, and he was going to do all he could to make sure his friends would not suffer at the hands of this lunatic. So, he lowered his gaze as he huffed out, “Why?”

As if on cue, a door slid open and closed from behind John. Up until this point, John realized he hadn’t paid any mind to his surrounding and realized he was in some kind of warehouse. He cursed himself for not noticing sooner but seeing how he woke up to a lunatic pulling a knife on him and the fear on his friends faces, that had been a distraction from the beginning, and he knew he couldn’t be faulted for that.

However, the look on his friend’s faces now told him all he needed to know. They looked absolutely terrified. All color drained from their faces as if they had just seen a ghost. John’s eyes widen in the realization. To him, it felt like he had truly stepped into a nightmare he wished he could wake from.

He felt a pair of hands suddenly begin to ruffle through his short blonde hair, all the while a certain familiar Irish voice cooed, “Hello, there Johnny boy. Long time no see, pet. Glad to see you’re still alive.”

For a moment John’s heart felt like it had stopped and for that moment he wished it had. He was truly horrified but he tried his best to keep himself under control. So, shaking his head, he closed his eyes and found he couldn’t help himself. The words were out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop them. “Funny, I wish I could say the same about you.”

The madman chuckled lightly as his grip tighten in John’s hair to hold his head from moving. John winced at the sudden painful act but kept still so it didn’t hurt as much. “Oh, still so much fight and fire left in you, pet. Glad to see you’re not completely broken otherwise this wasn’t going to be much fun.” Moriarty released John’s hair and began to caress John’s cheek with the back of his hand. John couldn’t help but to flinch away from the contact. He still hated how much this man had scared him and even more so now that the madman survived. “Oh, don’t be like that, pet. I might have to punish you or I do have some others to pick from this time around. The choice is yours.”

John could hear the amusement in the madman’s words which made John’s stomach tighten. He didn’t want any harm to come to any of them. If he had to take all the punishment then he would. He wanted to be the full focus of Moriarty’s attention because if he was then the madman would never hurt them. That is what he had to believe and to keep telling himself right now anyway. So, John let out a sigh and moved his head back so Moriarty’s hand could continue to caress his cheek.

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty purred. The madman leaned down and took John’s earlobe into his mouth and began to nibble on it. John’s body stiffened as he screwed his eyes tightly closed. _God, this can’t be happening._ His body gave way to an involuntary shiver. He wanted to pull away but do to Moriarty’s threat he kept still like the good little soldier he was. Moriarty pulled back slightly and whispered into John’s ear so only he could hear his words. “I am truly glad you are alive, pet. We are going to have so much fun together.”

John opened his eyes and tired turning his head to see Moriarty’s face but the madman was still out of his line of vision and he didn’t like that. But, John knew he had to play on what he knew would keep Moriarty’s focus and attention on him. The madman really loved games so John thought quickly he would give this madman an offer he couldn’t refuse. “Let them go Mr. Moriarty and I promise I will play any game you want me to play,” John whispered back hoping it would perk up his interest.

Moriarty slowly walked around to stand in front of John forcing his henchman to back away from John. Both Moriarty and John stared the other down, neither speaking for several minutes. Finally Moriarty spoke again completely ignoring John’s whispered offer. “What had he seen in you, pet?” He reached out a hand towards John’s chest and without touching where the blade had cut him; the madman ran his hand through John’s chest hair. “You are that one little puzzle I find myself unable to solve. I feel Sherlock felt the same and that is one reason he kept you around my dear. He was fascinated by you. Not to mention, you are the only man to stand by his side, who had killed for him even, and who could truly put up with him no matter what.”

John hesitated for a moment, his gaze turned towards Lestrade’s. It was like a light bulb click on at the realization for the DI, who now gave John a little disappointed glare. It was clear now to even Sally Donovan on who had shot the crazed cabbie, and she too looked at him in the same fashion as her boss. John turned his gaze quickly back to Moriarty, now feeling guilty for them finding out this way.

“Your interest was always Sherlock,” John murmured, looking up at the criminal. “I’m nothing special. I was just his blogger, his flatmate and…”

“And his best friend,” Moriarty bit out before John could finish. “I mean, you are the only man, a good man, a strong man that everyone adores mind you, that could put up with the one person on this earth that drove everyone else around him up the wall. It’s absolutely fascinating.” John’s mouth suddenly went dry as he felt a knot forming in his throat. He tired to swallow but he found he was failing miserably.

“So forgive me when I find your remark delightfully ignorant. Hell, it’s not every day one catches the attention of a high functioning sociopath but also for that same person to capture the attention of a high functioning sociopath that’s also a little bit of a psychopath…” His eyes narrowed slightly as he murmured, “What is it about you? Was it sexual? I know I have been a little unclear about the sexual reactions between you and Sherly…”

“I’m not gay,” John huffed but Moriarty ignored him.

“But, I am sure given the chance it would have been fantastic.” Moriarty let his hand glad over one of John’s nipples which made John gasp inward slightly while his back ached towards the touch. God, how he hated his body even more right now, in this moment, since it was betraying him. He didn’t want this, right? Damn it, why did his nipples have to be so fucking goddamn sensitive? He really didn’t want anything to do with the madman and he truly hated seeing Moriarty’s smile widen, his pupils starting too dilate with lust as he played with him like he was a toy. “Oh, so sensitive. Interesting.” Moriarty kept his attack up on John’s nipples, running his fingers from one to the other as his gaze remained intently on John’s face.

“Stop,” John managed to hiss after finding his breath after a few moments.

“Oh, I don’t think so, pet. You’re getting more fascinating by the second and this puts a whole new level to my plan. I want you to beg me for it and trust me when I say you will be soon.”

Moriarty began to pinch at John’s nipples which made John yelp. What the fuck was happening? Why in a million years would Jim Moriarty, a crazed brilliant criminal mastermind, think of him, John Watson, in a sexual manner? _Did I just call him brilliant?_

“God, Sherly had you under his thumb and still he never made a move? How disappointing for you Johnny boy. Must have been very frustrating to be around him and never getting what you wanted. His accuse of being “married to his work” and what not. So, I guess that would have never been an option for the great Consulting Detective. God, he was such a fool!” Moriarty pinched a little harder and John’s body began to buck. _God, please make this madman stop!_

“But, I could give you that Johnny boy. Whatever you desire of your deepest and your darkest of fantasies lay. I can show you things, pet. Things that Sherly never could. Whatever you want, I can give it all to you, love.”

Why? Why would this madman even care after all this time and about him of all people? Sherlock was dead so what was the point? It didn’t make since but god the thought did seem intriguing. _No, you idiot! Make him stop!_

"I don’t…please stop,” John whimpered trying to push aside the feeling of arousal. He felt horribly ashamed on how good it felt.

Moriarty, surprisingly, pulled his hand away. The crazed criminal mastermind's big brown eyes met John’s dark blue ones. After a moment John lowered his gaze. Moriarty smiled. “I will give you a little time to think on it.” Moriarty turned then and looked at the redhead. “Sebby dear. Be a peach and remove their gags for the time being. I’m sure they have much to discuss for a bit. Daddy has some business to take care of but it shouldn’t take long.”

John looked over at the redhead who began to remove the gags from each of his friends and out of fear they said nothing, which John was thankful for. He then looked back up at Moriarty and asked, “I thought after being dead and all that you’re clients would have moved on.”

Moriarty chuckled; pleased with the quick wit that was John Watson. He found the ex-army doctor had started to grow on him and he was glad to give the ex-army doctor a second chance. “Oh, please. I might have been dead Johnny boy but what I do, my legacy, it lives on. Not even that pompous oaf could even begin to destroy my beautiful web.”

John hesitated for a moment before he muttered, “You mean Mycroft?”

Moriarty found himself surprisingly liking John more and more and wondered why he never seen this in the doctor before. He was intelligent then most ordinary people, and right now Moriarty wasn’t finding John ordinary at all. In fact, Moriarty now found he wanted to cage John Watson and never let him out of his sight but he had a plan and he had to stay true to it this time. _All in good time_ , the criminal kept repeating in his mind.

“Oh, John. Sweet lovable John. You are so fascinating.” Moriarty leaned down so John could feel his breath lightly dancing across his lips. “Kiss me John.”

John was thrown by the, was it a question, a statement, or a command? God, he didn’t want too but then he heard a small whimper coming from his friends. _If I refuse to kiss him, would he hurt them?_

As if reading his mind Moriarty said, “I will if you don’t Johnny boy. Besides, it’s only a kiss.”

 _What the hell?_ He hated it when Sherlock could read him like a book but now he had a psychopath who could to do and who could probably do it a little better. That’s definitely a bit not good. “Please, Mr. Moriarty. I don’t want…”

“Sebby dear. Do you still have that pretty little knife handy, hm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a sweetie pie and go carve my internals into the Detective Inspector’s chest for me? I want him to remember that this could have been prevented if only Johnny Boy here would have only…”

John watched in horror as the redhead reached out with the knife and began to cut open Lestrade’s shirt.“No! Stop! I’ll do it!”

Moriarty held up a hand to halt the redhead who, in turn, looked disappointed. “You’ll do what Johnny boy?”

John closed his eyes. _Fuck. Shit. God damn it._ He opened his eyes and looked back at the intense dark brown ones. God, why? “I…I’ll kiss you.”

Moriarty placed a hand on his chest and looked like he was in shock. John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. _Just as much a drama queen as Sherlock_ , John thought. Then John felt his heart aching sense he was about to do this because he wished it would have been…

“Ooh, Johnny boy. I thought you’d never offer,” Moriarty giggled as he leaned forward pressing his lips onto John’s. The kiss started off gently but then John could feel Moriarty’s tongue probing against his lips wanting access to slither its way inside. So, to John’s surprise he let him. He opened his mouth and was not expecting a low moan that suddenly came from the criminal, pleased that John was obeying him. Moriarty’s tongue found his own and fought while trying to gain the upper hand but instead John forced his own tongue into Moriarty’s, which he was rewarded with another low moan from the criminal. It wasn’t like anything John ever experienced before from any of his lovers. Moriarty was gentle, but fierce, and knew what he was doing. But, John also had to keep in mind that Moriarty was a bloody psychopath, to whom, he was kissing and he shouldn’t be doing this but god it felt good.

_What the hell is wrong with you? He put you in a fucking bomb and killed your best friend! Now, he is threatening the other people in your life that you care about and you are melting against his lips! Stop it you bloody idiot!_

John was the first to break free. He needed air; he needed to clear his head and for that to happen he needed Moriarty to go away. However, Moriarty just smiled at him, which almost looked genuine and John noted that that kind of scared him more than being afraid of being tortured. _I think I will take the bomb vest now, thanks._

Moriarty stood up and he pulled down on his suit jacket. “Got to love Westwood,” he snickered as he pointed at his suit like he did back at the pool. Then, it was like night and day. The smile faded to the mask of a criminal mastermind evil smirk that once again reminded John of why Moriarty was Moriarty. It sent shivers down John’s spine. “Well, I must be off. This has been fun though.” He looked over at the other hostages who, up to this point, still hadn’t spoken a word.

Turning his attention back to John he said, “Oh, one more thing before I go. Do not try anything stupid, pet. I am sure you recall the pretty little red lights at the pool, yes? So, make sure you play nice because it would pain me to see anything bad happen to you.” With that Moriarty turned and headed off into the darkness with the ginger close on his heels. There was the sound of the door he had entered from, sliding open then close leaving them alone with the thoughts of, _What the fuck just happened?_

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty must take care of his other business and what we learn is no one can save them. Not this time.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is good. Some parts made me chuckle while I was writing this and others I was excited I came up with it. So, I hope you enjoy.  
> 

“Honey, I’m home,” Moriarty sang as he stepped into a small cement room that was located in the basement of the warehouse. “Oh, don’t look at me like that boys. I thought you would rather of have enjoyed the show. I know I did. He is so fierce and calm under stress like this, isn’t he? He is ever the good soldier who loves danger and I know I’d love to see that little toy soldier in action again. What do you think?” Moriarty walked until he stood in the middle of the room, ordering Moran to push the television stand to the side as he kept his gaze set on a set of bars, or more precisely, who stood caged within.

“I swear it Jim, if you don’t leave him alone I’m going to…”

Moriarty just snickered. “You’ll what? Come tell me Sherly dear. What will you do? It’s not like you’re big bad brother is going to be saving you this time…” He paused as he motioned towards Mycroft who was sitting on a cot in the same caged prison as Sherlock was. “There are no thirteen scenarios you can choose from on how this is going to end my dear. No, one to save them and no one to save you, which I must say, I am rather pleased with myself. I mean, I have all my, I’s dotted and my T’s crossed, don’t I Iceman? No, one to hear your screams, because let’s face it, it’s a lot more fun to play the game this way, don’t yea think?”

“I’d rather find this game of yours rather tedious and a bit of bore and I found it hard for them to even remotely be on the level of the old games we use to play Jim. It’s a waste of both of our talents and you know that. So tell me Jimmy, what are you hoping to gain from this?” Sherlock asked trying to sound unimpressed as he spoke, his voice remaining even.

Moriarty grinned wickedly. “Oh, you don’t know? I thought that was rather obvious.”

“Don’t be a bore Jim,” Sherlock muttered trying to sound uninterested.

“Oh, Sherly dear, you think this is being boring? There is nothing more boring than being dead. I’m sure you of all people would agree, yes?”

“I was far from bored Jim,” Sherlock replied pleased with how he had destroyed most of Moriarty’s web.

“Indeed, love. You were a busy little corpse, weren’t you? But, let me say that you only scratched the surface of my empire. Ooh, I like the sound of that. Makes me sound like a Sith Lord, doesn’t it?”

“What in the bloody hell is a Sith Lord?”

Moriarty just rolled his eyes. “Honestly Sherly? You’ve never seen Star Wars?”

“What is that?” Sherlock scuffled sounding annoyed and even more bored then he had before.

“It’s only one of the best sci-fi trilogy movies of all time. God, I can’t believe this. I was sure at least with that massive intellect of yours, you would have at least given a chance to watch the world’s greatest phenomenon.”

“Sorry to have disappointed you but it sounds tedious and uninteresting. I would rather use my time more effectively.”

“Like you trying to find a difference in brand of ash found in cigarettes? Please, now who is being boring?”

“Oh, sod off!” Sherlock grumbled hoping this would end sooner than later.

Moriarty licked his lips as he took a step closer towards the bars, his gaze steady on Sherlock’s. “Oh, come now Sherly. Don’t you want to know?”

“Know what?” Sherlock scowled at the sudden change of subject.

“How I did it? You were standing there in front of me, watching my every move as I pulled out the gun and placed it in my mouth, and BAM!” He shouted the last word starling the others in the room. It was a very faint movement and if not looking for it, one wouldn’t notice the slightest bit of fear, but Moriarty noticed. He grinned wickedly as he stared at both the Holmes brothers. “I’m sure your curious my dear. Come, tell us your theories. I’m just _dying_ to know,” he said chuckling at his last few words because the irony in all honestly was funny to him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes annoyed because he did not want to play this game. “What are you hoping to gain from this Jim?” He hissed.

Moriarty crossed his arms as his bottom lips flipped down like he was pouting. “Pity, I was rather looking forward to this moment…” He clicked his tongue as he continued to speak, “But if that is how you wish to play this then fine.” Moriarty’s face darkened; his gaze moving to Mycroft’s. “I’m sure you have deduced by now, haven’t you Iceman on what this is all about? Care to in lighten dear baby brother or should I?”

Mycroft sighed; his gazed fixed on Moriarty’s as the criminal spoke to him. “I…uh…” he stammered before he lowered his gaze. He took in a deep breath because he knew this wasn’t going to be easy for Sherlock to hear. His gaze drifted to his baby brother’s blue-grey one’s that looked so uncertain. Only Mycroft would know that though. “Sherlock,” he began trying to organize his thoughts before he spoke because this was not something he and Sherlock are use too. _Sentiment_. “His focus isn’t you this time nor am I. You saw what happened on the screen Sherlock, so deduce it.” Mycroft found he couldn’t say it aloud because for some odd reason he didn’t want too.

“Then…” Sherlock whispered not wanting the realization to hit him because god he already knew, he just didn’t want to admit it. If he did out loud then this nightmare would be real and he didn’t want it to be. God, he didn’t want this for _him_.

“Come on Sherly dear. Say it love,” Moriarty encouraged.

Sherlock shut his eyes for a moment. He wanted to scream and beat Jim to a bloody pulp but first he would need to get out of the cage. Opening his eyes, his dark gaze met Jim’s, who in turn smiled gleefully. “I swear Jim if you touch John again I will kill you!”

Moriarty just chuckled. “Oh, please love. Like you could stop me from touching that gorgeous body of his, which I must say, I am secretly looking forward too again. Maybe I will suck on his scar and see what kind of rise I can get out of the good doctor, eh?”

Sherlock rushed at the bars, unable to control his anger. “Leave him out of this Jim,” Sherlock snarled; his eyes filled with rage.

“Oh, Sherly. I love it when you’re feisty like this. It reminds me of, well, me.”

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment as he ran his hand through his hair. _What do I do? There must be something to make him stop this but what? Come on Sherlock, think!_ Opening his eyes he fixed his gaze on Jim as he asked, “What if I give myself to you Jim? Let everyone go and you can have me.”

Moriarty licked his lips as a predatorily grin stretched across his features. “Huh, that is a very tempting offer love. Really, it is, however I think big brother was right about how my focus isn’t about you this time. It will all be about Johnny boy because let’s face it I feel your Pet has really started to grow on me. I mean, the way he arched his back into my touch, god, that was sexy as hell, wasn’t it?”

“I won’t let you take him!” Sherlock growled.

“Again, you can’t stop me,” Moriarty sang in a sing-song manner.

“I can and I will!” Sherlock growled.

“No you won’t,” Moriarty sang once more in a sing-song Manner.

Sherlock hit the bars as he shouted, “Yes, I will!”

Moriarty sighed. “Mycroft, won’t you please try to explain to your little brother that he can’t stop this from happening? That Doctor John Watson will be forever more Jim Moriarty’s little toy soldier because I don’t think I am getting through to him and it’s not like him to not listen to me.”

“What makes you think he will listen to me either,” Mycroft huffed.

“Ah, yes. Fair point Iceman. Still it would make this so much easier.” Moriarty snapped his fingers as Morgan appeared with a chair for his boss to sit. Moriarty shoed Moran away as the criminal sat and turned his attention back to the Holmes brothers.

“Tell me something Jim,” Sherlock began as he watched Moran move like lighting, which prompted the question. “If you already have a “live in one” as you pointed out to me on the roof of Bart’s that you need to get one, since you have one now - why go after John?” \

“Well, to tell you the truth Sherly dear he wasn’t in the plans to keep. I was going to just reveal you were alive and then kill him instead. But, you know me. I’m just so damn changeable.” Moriarty’s face softened a little with the looked of pity in his face. “However, when I stepped into the room, still having in mind I was going to kill him, it wasn’t until I looked down into those dark crystal blue perals staring back at me, I could see something was lost there. He looked so hurt and the anguish and the pain that followed, that is when I decided to change my mind about him. He has no purpose. A dog with no master to tell him what to do or where to go, it just pained me to see that. So, I had to see for myself how he would react.”

Sherlock started to feel a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. Was this guilt? He had hurt John so he could protect him, so why was he feeling guilty? _Because he is still hurting_ , a voice whispered in his mind. _He needs **you**_. “That’s why you kissed him,” Sherlock muttered more to himself then Moriarty.

“Yes, Sherly. It was a test to see if he would resist because we all know how starved he can be for that something dangerous to be put back into his life, and let’s face it; I am at the top of that list. I’m sure you saw it on the screen how much he misses it. Although, I know it wasn’t me he was imaging he was kissing but, damn, it was good. I am sure he is a screamer too.”

Sherlock slammed himself against the bars of their prison, screaming all the murderous things he was going to do to Moriarty the moment he was free. Mycroft moved fast and pulled his little brother against him to try and calm him down. Sherlock fought against him to free himself but it only made Mycroft’s grip tighten.

“Sherlock stop this. Save your strength. John will need it,” Mycroft whispered into his ear, which had worked. Sherlock stood still in his brother’s embrace as he glared at Moriarty.

“Awe, how touching. Big brother to the rescue, eh Iceman, or should I call you that anymore?”

Mycroft kept his emotions in check and his face blank towards the master criminal, however, something told him that that was about to change. “How I am supposed to respond to that, Mister Moriarty?”

“Greg Lestrade,” Moriarty stated simply, cocking his head to the side as he studied the elder Holmes’s face for any kind of reaction and was pleased when he got one.

Mycroft released Sherlock and took a step towards the bars; his eyes narrowing on Moriarty’s smug face. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh please. I’m James Fucking Moriarty. I know all and I see all. Besides, it doesn’t take a fucking genius to see it.” He looked towards Sherlock who was staring at his brother with shock on his face. “Or maybe it does.” Moriarty chuckled, pleased with the elder Holmes for keeping his secret quiet for some long. But, now he was even giddier for that secret to be out in the open since it had seemed even the great Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, didn’t know.

“You and Lestrade?” Sherlock scuffled; annoyed he hadn’t seen the signs more clearly until now. Why didn’t he see it?

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up Sherly dear. It took a great amount of digging on my part but not even the great Mycroft Holmes could hide something like this from me.” His eyes darkened as he hissed, “Nor is he untouchable.”

Both Holmes brothers slowly turned their attention to Moriarty, who was smiling back at them with a serpent like grin on his face.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Sherlock barked; who seemed to be getting annoyed and more irritated by the second.

“Well, I do have some time to kill so I am sure this game will be simple,” Moriarty cooed only looking at Mycroft. “How much do you care for the DI?”

“What do you want me to do?” Mycroft asked trying to keep his voice even but only Sherlock could tell he was failing.

“Mycroft don’t. Think irrationally for a moment,” Sherlock whispered putting a hand on his arm but Mycroft pulled away keeping his gaze on Moriarty.

“Good. Very good. Glad to see you’re willing to listen. Now, let me think. Oh, yes I know. Pick a number Mycroft and it could be 1, 2 or 3.”

Mycroft hesitated for a moment. Thinking of the numbers and what they might mean to the psychopath before them but knowing how Moriarty was, they could mean anything. For instance, the number 1 could mean that Moriarty was going to hurt someone only once but it could be really bad or could be something small. Was he willing to take that chance? Number 2 could be two horrible things and he didn’t want to think on what number 3 stood for. But, he had to choose and he felt the need to possibly go with the one that might be less of the 3 evils. “Number 2,” Mycroft murmured, hoping he chose wisely.

“Ah, yes. That’s a good number. I like that number.” Moriarty turned towards Moran and said, “Oh, Sebby dear. Be a doll and let Mister Holmes out of his little cage for me please.”

Moran pulled out a gun from its holster, holding it steady on Sherlock as he opened the cage door so Mycroft could step out. When Mycroft was now standing before Moriarty, Moran closed it and locked it before Sherlock couldn’t try anything.

Moriarty stood from his chair, pulling his suit jacket down; he casually walked over in front of the elder Holmes. He smiled up at Mycroft as he said, “Has he made you feel sentiment, Mycroft? It’s not like you to have such feeling of this kind towards another you know. I personally think it makes a person weak. What do you think?”

“What does picking number 2 force me to do?” Mycroft hissed; his voice was like ice as his gaze dark and unforgiving.

“Ooh, so eager. I like that.” Moriarty moved away from him as Morgan kept his gun pointed at Sherlock to make sure Mycroft didn’t do anything stupid. “Let’s see. By picking the number 2 option…there will be two different tasks that will happen and you get to choose the person it will happen too. Task one is, I get to carve my initials in your chest or I get to carve them in Lestrade’s.”

“I choose me,” Mycroft stated simply.

“That’s not even a task!” Sherlock hissed but both men ignored him.

“Oh, really? Just like that?” Moriarty asked sounding amused.

“Just like that,” Mycroft said as he shrugged.

Sherlock reached out a hand and pulled Mycroft back towards the bars. “Mycroft, he just tried to cut Lestrade just moments ago to get John too do what he wanted. There’s no telling if he will still do it too him or not later.”

Mycroft turned his head to look at his little brother and noted how Sherlock looked so lost, not sure as to why his big brother would be doing such a thing for someone else other than for him. Mycroft gave him a weak smile in hoping he would soon understand.

“You can’t be serious,” Sherlock said; his voice uneven.

“Oh, but I am brother dear. I know I told you once that all lives end, all hearts are broken and caring is not an advantage Sherlock but at that time you were the only one I cared about protecting. I wasn't afraid of a losing anyone else. Then two different men walked into your life who gave you purpose and strength, who follow you without question because they trust you. Not to mention they care for you a great deal, so they matter.”

“You speak of them in a sentimental way,” Sherlock stated shaking his head at the thought. “If you recall Mycroft what I once told Irene, sentiment is just a chemical defect found in the losing side.”

Mycroft raised an eye brow as he said, “They are your friends Sherlock.”

“Yes, but will caring about them help save them?”

“If it keeps them from being tortured....” Mycroft’s voiced drifted off letting the words hang in the air.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment before he asked, “And what of you Mycroft? Do you feel Lestrade is worthy of **your** sentiment?” Sherlock asked his voice slightly shaky.

“Indeed I do. I consider Greg Lestrade to be my John Watson,” Mycroft murmured staring his little brother in the eye.

Sherlock stood silent for a moment. He just stared at Mycroft unsure of what more to say to him. Feelings were not his forte but he **knew** what John Watson meant to him. So, he could understand where Mycroft was coming from; he just didn’t like seeing his brother, the Iceman, so vulnerable and especially in front of James Moriarty.

“How touching,” Moriarty cooed as he watched the two of them, while in turn, Sherlock glared at the master criminal for speaking. Moriarty ignored him. “But, enough is enough. Sebby dear. Your hunting knife if you please. I would rather enjoy doing this myself.”

“Yes, sir,” Morgan huffed, pouting as he handed Moriarty the hunters knife that he had used on John’s chest just minutes ago.

Moriarty was waving the knife in his hand testing the weight and smiled, liking how it felt in his hand. He then pointed with the knife towards the chair as he barked at Mycroft. “Sit.” Mycroft did not hesitate this time. He moved with stride with his head held high as he turned and sat. He waited for further instructions from the criminal while trying his best not to look at Sherlock.

Moriarty moved so he was standing in front of Mycroft. Their eyes met and there was a silent understanding between the two of them. “Before we do this,” Moriarty began cocking his head to the side, “I think you need to be tied down first.” Moriarty looked to Moran and motioned to the some rope that was lying on a table. “Sebby, be a lamb and grab that rope there so we can secure our guest, that way he doesn’t thrash around too much, alright?”

Moran grabbed the rope and walked up to Mycroft securing his hands behind his back. The henchman then stepped back and waited for further instructions.

Moriarty slowly waved the knife around in front of Mycroft’s face grinning like a child who just got a new toy to play with.“Scream for me,” the criminal purred as he repeated the same action as Moran had done to John with the knife from before. Moriarty reached out with the knife and cut away the top button of Mycroft’s shirt. Mycroft kept his body still; his eyes fixed on Moriarty’s the whole time until the last button was cut away. Moriarty yanked back Mycroft’s shirt revealing Mycroft’s front to him. “Are your nipples sensitive to Mycroft?” Moriarty asked as he reached out and ran his fingertips lightly over one of Mycroft’s nipples.

Mycroft shuttered at the sudden contact and screwed his eyes shut not wanting to look at the smug little bastards face. He tried to focus on his breathing, to steady himself as best he could because he didn’t want to give the madman the satisfaction.

“Oh, someone’s nipples are hard for me,” Moriarty said giggling as he began to run his hand down his stomach, heading a little more south.

Mycroft jumped, feeling Moriarty’s hand travel, he looked him in the eye as he began to plead with the crazed criminal in an almost hushed whisper. “Mister Moriarty…I…please don’t.”

Moriarty’s hand rested at Mycroft’s waist lane. He leaned forward so his lips were right next to Mycroft’s ear as he whispered, “You’re right. That should be saved for task two.” Moriarty stood back up and smiled seeing the fear in the elder Holmes eyes, and noted how much he liked it. “Shall we begin?”

Mycroft faced drained from any color left on it. He opened his mouth but his mind was a blank slate, unable to think of a coherent thing to say, which disturbed him. He closed his mouth when Moriarty put the knife to his chest and very slowly began to pierce through the skin. Mycroft tried his best, he really did, but the pain was to overwhelming to ignore. The elder Holmes, who was known for being a cold hearted prick that felt nothing - as his colleagues so thoughtfully pointed out -, began to scream.

Moriarty took his time carving the **J** into Mycroft’s chest. Blood was dripping down Mycroft stomach when Moriarty pulled hand away to admire his handy work. “Beautiful,” the criminal purred his voice a little soothing which was a little unnerving, Mycroft noted.

Mycroft’s eyes were stain blood red as tears began to run down his cheeks. He knew his face was twisted with pain and fear, and he hated that. His chest stung and could not honestly recall the last time he was in this much agony. “Please…” Mycroft whimpered his voice small and shaky.

Moriarty ran his hand gently over Mycroft’s cheek, pushing his tears away. “I still need to do the **M** my dear so just a little bit longer and then I will let you rest, alright?”

Mycroft nodded trying to stifle back a low sob. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Sherlock. The horror he could only image what would only be on his little brother’s face would make this even harder to deal with. He wasn’t for sure why but all he knew was he had to keep his gaze from his.

Moriarty raised the knife back to Mycroft’s chest which made Mycroft stiffened at the sudden touch of the blade resting against his skin once more. “Take a deep breath my dear. Come on, you can do it.”

Mycroft did as he was told and drew in a breath; however, in doing so Moriarty pressed the blade in once more which made Mycroft’s body shake as he began to scream.

“Jim, stop this! Stop hurting him!” Sherlock shouted. “Hurt me! I’m the one you wanted and I know I still am Jim! Just take me!”

“Shut it!” Mycroft hissed through gritted teeth. “Just shut it Sherlock!”

“Not much brotherly love between you to and I must say it’s very unhealthy,” Moriarty said as he pulled his hand away a moment. He had two lines to go before he was finished completely and was secretly delighted with how it looked. _I might need to do this to Johnny boy to make sure there will be no confusing that that the little toy soldier will be mine._

“And what would you know about sibling rivaling Jim?” Sherlock scuffled wishing Moriarty was done cutting into his brother.

“Oh, I know tons but that fairytale will be reserved for another time. Let’s finish this, yea?” Moriarty began to cut into Mycroft’s chest once more, slowly pulling the blade up word at a slight angle while listening to Mycroft’s screams of agony. _He looks like he is about to pass out. Interesting._ As Moriarty began to carve the last line to make his **M** complete, he noticed Mycroft’s breathing becoming shallow as his eyes began to roll back into his head. The elder Holmes finally blackout unable to take anymore but he had surpassed what Moriarty had hoped for. It meant that Mycroft was tough and with the next task soon to come, it will weigh more on his mind then his body and the criminal could hardly wait.

When Moriarty was done, he stood and turned to see a very enraged filled Sherlock staring murderous dangers at him, and it made Moriarty smile. “I will forever be a part of your dear brother’s life.”

Sherlock was shaking slightly; his rage was starting to consume him more. “I will kill you Jim. I swear it.”

“Oh, I know you will love but for now dear big brother surprisingly needs you,” Moriarty snickered as he motioned for Morgan to untie Mycroft.

Moran did as he was told, stepping behind the unconscious elder Holmes and untied him. Then he paused hearing Moriarty’s orders to unlock the cage door. Moran looked a little confused at first but did as he was told, walking over and unlocked the caged door, quickly moving to the side with his gun pointed at Mycroft’s head.

“Now, Sherly dear. Be a good boy for me and come get your brother. Drag him into your little play pin and know if you do something stupid Sebby here will not hesitate to shoot him in the head.”

Sherlock said nothing as he stepped from the cage and walked towards Mycroft. He leaned down and gently grabbed hold underneath his armpits, dragging him back to the cell. Once inside, he placed Mycroft back on the cot and quickly turned to see Morgan had closed and locked the door before he could rush him.

“Give him the first aid kit from over on the table,” Moriarty said his eyes never breaking away from the Holmes brothers.

Moran moved quickly as he grabbed the kit and placed it near the bars so Sherlock could reach it. He then moved the television stand back to where he had it before so both men could watch the show that would be taking place just a few floors from above where they stood now. When that was in place, Moran turned to see Moriarty, who turned and started to walk towards the door so he followed suit.

“I swear it Jim! I will get out of here and when I do you’re a dead man!” Sherlock shouted after them as the door closed, cutting off Sherlock’s rates of rage.

“I think it’s time to return to our other guests, don’t you?” Moriarty asked Moran as they walked down the hall to the lift.

“I agree,” Moran said smiling as he placed his gun back in its holster and tucked the knife in the front of his jeans. There was a moment of silence before Moran found himself timidly asking, “Can I play with one of them?”

Moriarty chuckled noting the eagerness and hopefulness in his henchman’s tone. “Perhaps, my dear and I might even let you keep one.”

Moran smiled even broader. “Really?”

“You’ve been such a good boy. It’s only fair my dear that I reward you with nice things.”

“Yes, sir. Uh, thank you sir,” Moran stammered as he began to think of which one he wanted to keep and the thought wasn’t a hard one, he noted, thinking about all the things he was going to do to his new pet.

As the lift doors opened, both men stepped out and headed towards the main room where their other guests were waiting for them to return. “Are you ready sugar?” Moriarty asked looking Moran in the eyes.

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy. I know you will. Now, let’s see what Johnny boy has to say, shall we?” He said smiling wickedly.

Moran noted how much he loved seeing his boss happy because he loved looking at his smile. To Moran, nothing else could compare to James Moriarty, the crazed brilliant criminal mastermind. Moriarty was everything to him. Hell he would die for that madman if it came down to it because heaven or hell help him, he was in love. With that in mind, Moran pulled back on the sliding door and watched as his boss entered before him. Moran loved to watch his boss work even though he was a little jealous that John Watson was his primary objective now, however, he knew that he would always be the one Jim could count on…always.

“Sorry it took so long my love,” Moriarty said as he moved back in front of John. “Now, where were we?”

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :
> 
> Moriarty knelt down in front of John, running his hands gently over his thighs, and as he spoke, his voice was soft and soothing. “I can make the pain stop Johnny. I promise I can and I would take you away from here so you wouldn’t have the constant reminders of all the pain and heartache you have suffered. As long as you would promise not to fight me, I would do that for you. You would be mine, all mine Johnny, and I promise I would never treat you the way he treated you. I could learn to care with you around Johnny and I could teach you so many wonderful new tricks. What do you say?”
> 
> (Can he do that? Would he do that to make all the pain end?)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning still might be some small triggers but not sure. Most of the tags say what this is about. Also, comments are always welcomed. If I need to change or add something or if you have an idea, I might through it in but it depends on it. Thank you again and please enjoy.  
> 

  


When the door slid closed, no one spoke for a good ten minutes. John kept his head turned and eyes shut tight because he didn’t want this to be real. He was scared and unsure of what to do. _Come on John, don’t give up. You can do this. Take a moment and think,_ the voice echoed in his mind. It was funny how often the voice sounded like Sherlock’s. But, what could he do? They were tied to chairs in a warehouse, only god knows where, and Moriarty had mentioned snipers, so there wasn’t much he _could_ do. All he wanted at this point was to open his eyes and be back in his bed at Baker Street riding this all off as a bad dream. But, he shook that thought aside because he knew better. This wasn’t a dream even though it truly was his worst nightmare coming true. _Sherlock._

What the redhead had said still echoed throughout his mind. _“No one is coming to save you Doctor Watson.”_ Was that true? If Greg, Irene, Molly, Sally and even Anderson were here, then who was left? _Mycroft_ …but John had a strange suspicion that that Moriarty had put him on a wild goose chase. If the madman didn’t want them to be found then Mycroft would not be coming to their aid. He had to come up with his own plan to get his friends out of here in one piece. _Come on John, just think!_

Finally a female voice broke through his train of thought. He drew in a shaky breath as Irene began to speak to him. “John? I’m sorry John. I really am. You must believe that.”

John could feel his anger rising fast and he was doing all he could to keep it under control.

“John…I…Please John, please believe that I need you too…”

John cut Irene off by snapping his gaze towards her, his voice like ice as he growled, “No, Irene. I don’t have to listen to you! I never wanted to see you the first time and even then I _saw_ you. No, you’re supposed to be _dead_ just like…” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. He was doing his best trying to fight back his tears because they were all suppose to be dead and the one person he wanted the most was nowhere to be seen. _It’s unfair!_

“John please you must listen to me,” Irene tried again, her voice in a low whisper. “He saved me John. I was going to die but at the very last second he came to my rescue.”

John began to shake slightly. His anger still rising as he noticed silent tears began to run down his cheeks. Keeping his head turned so his friends could not see his tears he muttered, “Well, doesn’t seem like anyone is coming to our rescue this time.”

“What about…uh…the freak’s brother?” The question came from Sally Donovan.

John couldn’t help it. The word was uttered, the one word that Sherlock hated the most and it made John lose it. He snapped his gaze towards Sally’s and he made her insistently regret it. “Don’t you even dare call him that, do you hear me? Never again!” John snarled; his eyes beginning to darken, pushing his tears aside. “Do you not understand where we are? We are in the belly of the beast you twit. This is James Moriarty, a crazed psychic madman who puts people in bomb vests for sheer enjoyment of watching them explode.” John was in a full anger rant and he was enjoying getting it out. Letting his anger out full force, even if it was towards Sally, he needed to get it out. “He is a murderer and he will not blink twice to shooting anyone in the head or if he had time, he would watch as he skinned them alive. If we are here then no one is coming to save us so the sooner you get that through your thick skull the better!”

“John!” Molly barked trying to snap John out of his rant.

John looked to Molly and saw the shock and concern on her face then he looked back at Sally’s face and saw the pure terror on her face from his words. He lowered his gaze to the floor but he did not regret his words. They were at the mercy of a madman so why sugar coat it, right? He knew Sherlock would have probably said about the same thing or possibly worse, either way, he had to make them see that this was truly a bit not good.

John began to look around and wished there was something, anything to indicate as to what Moriarty was going to do next. But, as he looked around the emptiness of the room (of what he could see) there really wasn’t any clue as to what Moriarty’s plans were going to in tell for him and how he was going to use his friends against him. John just knew he wanted to protect them and he was going to do his damnedest to try.

After a few minutes of silence John looked towards Molly again. She smiled back at him but it wasn’t her usually smile that could brighten a room. No, this smile did not reach her eyes and it was a little odd, John noted, to see her like that. “Alright?” “John asked his voice surprisingly steadier then it had been.

Molly nodded. “Are you alright?”

John nodded even though he wasn’t. He wanted to tell them, to warn them, but he found that he couldn’t. None of them knew, well maybe Irene knew what Moriarty was capable of but none of them really knew how much Moriarty scared him. John Watson was a soldier, a captain and a doctor who was use to seeing death but he was not use to seeing people he care for die. _If anything happens to them_ … he couldn’t finish the thought because he was going to make sure nothing was going to them if he could help it. He knew he couldn’t stop Moriarty from hurting them but he could make it hellish on the master criminal if or when he tried.

John needed to come up with a plan or plans to get them out of here. Then he mind drifted to Sherlock - _if I were him or if Sherlock were here he would deduce where they were just by the dirt on the floor or the location of the door. Then he would calculate on how many snipers were in the room by doing something stupid like moving to see how many little red lights would appear on his chest then go from there. He would have come up with so many different plans instantly and the scenarios on the outcome to each of them until he found the one to get them out of here alive_ , but he wasn’t there to help nor was he Sherlock. John couldn’t deduce the outcome so he had to find another way.

However, he did have a few cops on his side to help come up with a plan, so he looked towards Greg who was staring back at him making John hesitate. He could still see the hurt behind the DI’s eyes from the new information that had come to light. John hung his head, letting out a low sigh because he felt obligated to explain about what happened that night. The first case he helped Sherlock on, the one where he had saved his best friends life. “I’m sorry Greg. I had too. He was going too…”

“I expected it from Sherlock. Hell, I excepted it from anyone else but from you, John, really?” Greg scowled, shaking his head as he met John’s eyes once more. “Why?”

“He was going too…” John paused, thinking back to that moment on how he saw Sherlock through the window about ready to take the pill just too show how “clever” he was. _He was and still would be an idiot._ “It was Sherlock trying to prove…That cabbie was dangerous.”

“That doesn’t give you the right. Christ, you had only just met him, John. How could you just…” Lestrade let his voice drift off.

John didn’t know what to say. The cabbie was not armed and he was not holding Sherlock against his will, so why? Why did John shoot? _Even then I knew that I couldn’t lose him._ “Because…” is all John could manage. He didn’t have an explanation on why he did it but he also felt like he didn’t need to explain his actions. Not really. Not to them. He knew why he did it, didn’t he? _Because you love him or loved him_ , the voice muttered in his mind. John rolled his eyes at himself but he was not going to it denying either. Yes, John Watson had been in love with Sherlock Holmes but now he was gone.

So, what the hell was all this about? Why was Moriarty so interested in him now? It still didn’t make sense.

“John, for what’s it worth he loved you too,” Molly said breaking John out of his thoughts.

John looked to her and saw tears running down her cheeks which almost made John lose it himself. _How could she know?_

“You were everything to him and I am sure I am speaking for everyone when I say that.” Molly’s gaze turned from his then.

“Molly how could you possibly know…” But, he suddenly silenced by the sound of the sliding door from behind him sliding open and within seconds Moriarty was standing in front of him once more.

“Sorry it took so long my love,” Moriarty said looking down into John’s eyes. “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were at the part of you untying me and seeing which one of us would leave here in a body bag,” John snarled, ready for this to be over, however, he knew it was far from it. Moriarty would drag this out and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. John loathed him for that.

“Oh, come Johnny boy, you don’t really mean that. I know you don’t really want to hurt your new master now, do you?” Moriarty put his hands behind his back and kicked gently outward, pretending as though his feelings were hurt.

John kept his expression blank but he couldn’t help snicker from within at the thought of Moriarty having _feelings_ of any kind. The man was a monster, no a demon, and he was pure evil. John so badly wanted to watch the madman die a slow painful death and he hoped soon he could be the cause of it. “Go to hell,” John spat venomously.

Moriarty clicked his tongue as a smile crept slowly across his face. “I think it’s time to put you in your rightful place Pet.” Moriarty kept his hands behind his back as he turned and casually walked over in front of Greg. “Pick a number Johnny boy, one through five.”

“No,” John scowled, not wanting to play.

Moriarty looked over his shoulder and said, “I will pick for you then if you don’t.”

“Fine…I…four,” John said through gritted teeth, nerves at what was about to happen.

“Good boy,” Moriarty said slowly moving so now he stood in front of Sally Donovan. “Such a good little Pet.” Moriarty’s gaze was fixed on Sally’s and Sally found she couldn’t look away from the intense dark eyes staring back at her. Her body began to shake slightly. “Now, Johnny boy, I want you to pick one out of these five different instruments.”

John’s focus went from Sally’s terrified face towards Moriarty’s henchman who was rolling a table over in front of him. When the table was in his view and he saw what lay upon it, John felt sure panic take hold. There was a lighter with a cigar next to it, a small little black brief case (which was closed), a cattle prod, a bucket of water and a syringe - which had a little unmarked bottle sitting next to it. Five different torture devices for the five people who were held hostage. _Oh, god no._ Was he supposed to choose what would happen to each of them?

Moriarty turned from Sally, smiling wickedly at John. “You get to decide Johnny boy, which one do you believe Miss Donovan here could live with since you will be picking for her? Personally I would always go for the electricity myself but that’s just me. So, what will it be my dear, hm?” He mused, smiling as he watched John’s expression. _God, I want to kiss him again._

John looked from the table towards Sally. He didn’t know which she could handle best because he didn’t know her all that well. However, he did know Molly, Greg and Irene, and what he believed they could probably handle but it was still hard for him to say it because he didn’t want to see them be tortured.

“We haven’t got all day Pet. Well, that’s a lie. We do but I really do hate being kept waiting. Patience is not my forte, you see.” He clapped his hands together grabbing John’s attention. “What will it be Pet or should I decide?” Moriarty began to walk over to the table, slowly reaching for the cattle prod when John quickly spoke up.

“The lighter,” John said quickly even though he didn’t want too.

“Ah, yes. The lighter and cigar combo. That is an interesting choice my dear doctor. Now, tell us why you chose that for her.”

“Because…I think she can…can handle it,” John muttered, hoping he was right.

“Well, I guess there is only one way to find out,” Moriarty chuckled as he picked up the cigar and placed it between his teeth. He then picked up the lighter and placed it at the tip, taking a few puffs before pulling it away. “Ah, so enjoyable,” he purred slowly blowing out a ring of smoke. After a moment he slowly turned his attention on Sally. “Well, dear Miss Donovan. Do you think Johnny chose the right one for you?” He placed the cigar back between his teeth as he walked over in front of her, smiling a wolfish type grin down at her as she was looking back up at him with frightened teary eyed brown ones.

“I…don’t…know…” Sally stammered; her voice shaky from fear.

“Well, like I said before. There is only one way to find out.” He pulled the cigar from his lips and reached out towards her neck. Just mere inches before the cigar touch her, Moriarty stopped. “Tell me Miss Donovan, are you afraid right now?”

She nodded her head slightly, unable to speak with the cigar so close to her throat.

“If you had a choice Miss Donovan to be burned or for Johnny to be burned, who would you choose? Would you save yourself from the pain and let him take it and then you must live with knowledge of him being tortured in your place or should I just go ahead and burn you?”

Sally met John’s eyes and it was all John could do not to shout for her to tell the prick to turn his focus on him. It had to be Sally’s choice but it did not keep John from nodding that it was going to be alright, that he wanted her to choose him. Sally closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be here just as much as the rest of them. Why did she have to pick? Was this the kind of games Sherlock had enjoyed? With other human lives like this, it was sick and twisted and she didn’t want any part of it. Suddenly, she was forced out of her thoughts when she felt a hand grip her throat. Her eyes flew open as she saw those same intense darks ones boring into her own.

“Choose,” Moriarty shouted, squeezing a little tighter on her throat.

“John,” Sally whimpered, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “Fuck…I…choose…John.” 

Moriarty let go of her throat and smiled down at her. “See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Moriarty turned and started to walk towards John. John’s body stiffed, bracing itself for the sudden impact of pain as Moriarty pushed the cigar against John’s collarbone. John gritted his teeth doing his best not to scream but it was hard. God it hurt like hell but he did his best. He did not scream.

“Oh, god John, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Sally whimpered through more tears, her body shaking violently.

Moriarty pulled back and met John’s dark blue eyes. “Was it good for you too?” He asked chuckling. He then turned to face the hysterical Sally Donovan. “Shhh, my dear Sergeant, no need to apologize to him. I think he should be the one to apologize to you.” He turned to face John once more. “Am I right Johnny? Let’s face it; why else would I have picked them? This is your fault Johnny boy, all your fault. Why else would they be here, hm?” Moriarty relight the cigar and placed it once more against John’s collarbone and once again John fought from screaming. “Come tell them Johnny, why are they here? Tell them!” Moriarty shouted now placing the lighter against John’s neck and this time John couldn’t hold it in. He began to scream.

“Oh, fuck! It’s my fault! Please, I’m sorry! Forgive me! God, I didn’t want this! I’m so sorry!” John screamed as his body thrashed against his binds, making the wounds around his wrists break open and blood slowly drip to the floor.

Moriarty pulled his hand away, admiring the new marks that he made on _his_ new Pet. _Mine!_ “Pain is the best truth serum ever,” he said, placing the lighter back on the table. He knelt down in front of John, running his hands gently over his thighs, and as he spoke, his voice was soft and soothing. “I can make the pain stop Johnny. I promise I can and I would take you away from here so you wouldn’t have the constant reminders of all the pain and heartache you have suffered. As long as you would promise not to fight me, I would do that for you. You would be mine, all mine Johnny, and I promise I would never treat you the way he treated you. I could learn to care with you around Johnny and I could teach you so many wonderful new tricks. What do you say?”

John cringed at the sudden hands running along his inner thigh and listening to Moriarty’s words; it gave a whole new meaning to his touch and it made John want to vomit. He didn’t want to be with Moriarty; he wanted to be with Sherlock. _He’s dead. Sherlock is dead and the sooner you get that through your thick skull Watson, the better!_ But, he couldn’t be with Moriarty either. However, what if he declined the offer, could he handle another round of being tortured? He felt so ashamed for breaking down so easily due to the madman burning him because he was tougher than this. Damn it he had to be because his friends were counting on him to be strong. He was a soldier, a captain, so he could do this, right? “No,” John growled. “Piss off.”

Moriarty sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t offer Pet.” He stood and walked back over towards the hostages once more. “Pick another number Johnny. One through five, besides four of course, and please make it quick.”

John didn’t know what to do because he didn’t want to play this game anymore. But, Moriarty would not let him quit and he didn’t want the madman to decide for him either mainly because he didn’t know if it would be worse on his friends or not. Closing his eyes he whispered, “Five.”

“What was that Pet? I didn’t quite catch that.”

John met the madman’s eyes. “I said five,” he grumbled.

“Ah, yes. Number five.” Moriarty moved so he stood before a very frightened Anderson. “Hello there. In the past, I’ve seen you and Sherly together and I must say he really disliked you, didn’t he? You and Miss Donovan both really disliked him as well, am I right?”

Anderson slowly nodded. “Y…Yes.”

“Do you want to know what I would have done if it were me in Sherly’s shoes and you called me a freak?” He asked looking between Anderson and Donovan. “I would have cut out your tongues and shove them up your asses.” Moriarty snickered at their silent yet terrified faces. “Now, I suppose you are wondering why you are here, yes? Well, that again is because of Johnny boy. Every single one of you is connected in one form or another and I am sure you would have noticed your boss missing because he would have noticed Johnny missing, so it was only logical for you to join the fun.” Moriarty turned towards John with a big toothy grin. “Choose,” he simply stated.

“The… syringe,” John muttered, chewing on his bottom lip.

Moriarty noted how much he wanted to just forget all of this and walk over to bite on John’s lip himself but he reframed. “Oh, really? That’s an interesting choice for a little shit like him Johnny but if you think he can handle a seven percent solution injection, then that is what we’ll do.”

Anderson’s eyes widen with horror as he looked towards John, pleading with this eyes that he didn’t want this. However John couldn’t do anything to stop it. He wanted to but he knew Moriarty would not listen to his words. So they just watched as Moriarty picked up the syringe and stuck it down into the bottle. Pulling into the syringe of what he knew he needed, he placed the bottle back on the table and walked towards Anderson, who was shaking uncontrollably out of fear. “Please...” Anderson whimpered, tears running down his cheeks.

Moriarty moved the needle toward his arm and then stopped. Their eyes met and at that moment John knew. “Please what?” Moriarty asked cocking his head to the side.

“I...I don’t…want…that…” Anderson sobbed.

“Well, it’s what Johnny picked for you. So, it’s what you’re going to get. However…if you want I will give you the same option I gave to your girlfriend. I can either give this to you and you take it like a man or remain that fucking little shit of a crowed you are and let Johnny take it for you.”

Anderson’s body shuttered with the madman being so close. He didn’t want this nor did he want John to take it for him but he couldn’t do it because he wasn’t strong enough. Without even looking at John he whimpered, “John.”

Moriarty smiled as he reached out a hand and patted Anderson’s cheek. “You are so pathetic and worthless. A sorry excuse for a man and I know if it were Gregory he would have taken it. But, you…Hell, I should just do the world a favor and put you down like the unwanted little bitch you are.” Moriarty pulled back his hand and slapped Anderson across the face. “Tell me how pathetic you are!”

Anderson’s sobs were out of control. He yelped when Moriarty slapped him and cringed when the madman was getting ready to slap him again. “No, please!”

“Say it!” Moriarty shouted as he slapped him again.

“I’m pathetic and worthless! I’m a horrible excuse for a human being. I don’t deserve Sally or to be a part of her life because I know she could do so much better than me!” Anderson lowered his gaze with low streaming of sobs coming from his lips. Never had he thought he could ever say those words aloud and within second a psychopath made him reveal it. _I am pathetic._

Moriarty slowly reached out his hand and lifted Anderson’s gaze to meet his own. “I’m sure you feel better now, don’t you?”

Anderson nodded but said nothing else.

“Good. Now, that’s out of the way I want you to watch this.” Moriarty turned and walked towards John. “It’s curious, isn’t it? All those times Sherlock taking this and you feeling the hurt and disappointment because he did it. Now, you’re doing it. What would he think Johnny?”

“That it’s not by choice,” John replied, his body motionless.

Moriarty chuckled knowing it would be a lot harder to play mind games with John. _Such the little challenge, I love it._ “True. Now, hold still love.” Moriarty moved to John’s left side and within seconds he found a vein that was pronounced to him. “Looks like we have a taker,” Moriarty snickered, moving the syringe until the needle pierced his skin.

John shut his eyes, feeling a hot burning sensation blast through his veins.

“Shhh, it will be alright Pet,” Moriarty said running his hand through John’s hair. “I’m still here for you.”

John snapped his eyes open and spat in Moriarty’s face, hoping that the madman would just end him. “Fuck you!”

Moriarty sighed, his face unreadable as he said, “You really shouldn’t have done that Johnny, not with your friends lives on the line.” He stood and walked until he stood behind Molly. “The one that seems the most innocent of all is truly the most dangerous and unpredictable.” He leaned down and licked her neck, making Molly cringe. “You’ve been naughty,” Moriarty sang then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “If you wish to remain in one piece I suggest you keep your mouth shut. Understand?”

Molly closed her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good girl,” he murmured then turned his attention to Greg, moving so he licked the side of his neck, making Greg flinch. “And you have been naughty as well, haven’t you? I’m curious Gregory, how can you stand him? He seems ten times worse than Sherlock ever was and yet you’re fucking the man. I find that fascinating in itself.”

“What…are you talking about?” John huffed, his head feeling like it wanted to explode.

“Oh, you don’t know? Well, that doesn’t really surprise me considering. They kept it on the down low as best they could but nothing can be hidden from me forever. No, it seems Johnny boy that you are not the only one that is infatuated with a Holmes brother.”

John tried to focus on Lestrade as best he could but was failing. “W…what?”

“How does that song go again? Ooh, yes. Greg and Mycroft sitting in a tree, K. I. S. S. I. N. G.” Moriarty sang giggling from the glare John was now trying to give him. “Oh, come on Johnny. You got to admit that’s funny, isn’t it? Well, how about this, all those times you would turn Mycroft away, who was there to be with you then and I am sure it was under orders from the British Government.”

“Shut it!” Greg snapped. He had heard enough. “John is my friend damn it. I was checking up on him because I wanted too not because…”

“Not because your boy friend told you too. Just like that time you went on holiday and just so happened to run into them when they went to Baskerville? Yes, I get it, it wasn’t under “orders” but still, it's curious.” Moriarty said abruptly.

“How in the hell…” Greg began then shook his head. “John, you are my friend. Don’t let him twist my words,” Greg pleaded.

“It…alright…Greg,” John slurred, his vision blurred from the drugs. “I…under…stand.”

“Well, it seems as though the happy drugs are taking their toll on you, Pet,” Moriarty said, walking over to kneel before John once more. “Do you want me to make you feel good Johnny?” Moriarty began to run his hands along John’s inner thighs. John closed his eyes, letting out an involuntary moan. “Mmm, you like that Johnny?”

John let out another low moan, tilting his head back as he kept his eyes tightly shut. His brain was fighting against his bodies sexual urges and his brain was losing. _Oh god, please, NO!_ He didn’t want it but his body was reacting to it, to _him_. John didn’t know how to stop it, how to make the monster stop and he did want it to stop, didn’t he? He wanted to fight and scream at Moriarty to keep his disgusting hands off of him but the drugs kept him from doing that because it started feel wonderful. John couldn’t recall the last time someone had touched him so intimately. So, instead of fighting it, John gave into the touch. He moaned focusing on the hands as they began to travel upward towards the bulge in his trousers. But, then something happened that no one, not even Moriarty, was prepared for.

With the drugs taking full effect now and John not faced with the reality of where he was, lost in the feeling of someone making him feel good, he moaned under his breath as he purred, “Mmmm, Sherlock.”

That made Moriarty still. Rage crashed over his features, pulling his hand away from John. _Not Sherlock!_ Moriarty quickly stood to his feet, his eyes wild while glaring at the drugged doctor. _Not Sherlock’s, MINE!_ Moriarty ran his hand through his hair, pacing silently in front of John. There was something gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Was this jealously? Was James Moriarty jealous of the supposed dead Consulting Detective? “No, this is not how…” Moriarty stopped and looked at John then he turned and looked at Greg, glaring at him as he had John. Without another word Moriarty turned, storming towards the door with Moran close on his heels and disappeared from sight.

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :
> 
> “Sherlock?”
> 
> However, it wasn’t until Moriarty began to run his hands on the inside of John’s thighs, Sherlock forced himself to look towards Mycroft. “What?” he snapped.
> 
> “I feel a knot here. Can you tell what it is?”
> 
> Sherlock walked over to the right side of his brother and began to look around his collarbone. “There is a little scar on top of it but that is all I see.”
> 
> Mycroft said nothing, his face twisted in confusion.
> 
> “What is it? What’s wrong?”
> 
> “I’m…not sure. All I can think of is…”  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. I am so glad you are enjoying my story that today I couldn't help but write my next chapter in one day and post it up. I might have typos so please be aware.  
> I've been watching and listening to music on youtube of people putting Sherlock videos together. This one makes me think of this story I am writing now and I wanted to share it.  
> You are not alone.  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCID61Eyttw  
> 

  


As she slowly made her way up the stairs, with her gun drawn, she could hear soft foots steps coming from the flat before her. All her thoughts running through her mind were to make sure John was alright. That he was safe and her being here was just a social visit. But, the sounds she was hearing, they didn’t sound like John so quietly she took each step until she stood outside the flat door.

All became still as she kicked in the door and was greeted with a gun being pointed at her own face. She smiled as she said, “You’re not John.”

The other woman stood like a statue, unreadable as she replied, “Neither are you.”

Both women just stood there for a moment, staring the other down.

Finally the one that just entered asked, “Who are you and why are you in John’s flat?”

“I was just about to ask you the same question,” the other woman said not wearying in anyway.

“My name is Mary Morstan and he gave me a key,” Mary said holding up a key to the flat.

The other woman smiled as she held up a key which made Mary frown. “It’s not what you think.”

“Well, kindly explain it to me what it looks like then,” Mary huffed, a little angry that John would just give his key out to anyone.

The other woman raised an eye brow. “Again, it’s not what you think. I’m here on government business.”

That made Mary still. “What? Why would the government be interested in John?”

The other woman side as she said, “If we lower our guns, I will explain everything to you then.”

Mary hesitated for a moment, looking the woman up and down. She had on a dark blue blouse and a black skirt that Mary knew only a high paying job could provide. With a nod, they both lowered their guns at the same time.

The other woman took out her cell phone and proceed to scan through it as she spoke not looking up at Mary. “Do you know who John’s flatmate was?”

Mary nodded even though the woman wasn’t paying any mind to her now. So, Mary spoke up instead. “Yes. Sherlock Holmes was his flatmate. That was kind of hard not to miss with all that had happen with it being in the papers and on the telly.”

“Well, I work for his brother and about 36 hours ago they went missing.”

“Missing?” Mary asked her brow furrowing. “That makes since why John didn’t call in.”

The other woman looked up at her. “You work for Doctor Watson?”

“Well, yes. I am one of the nurses but I mean he and I are…well…it’s…hard to explain I guess.”

The other woman sighed and looked back down at her phone. “We need to figure out where…”

Just then footsteps came rushing down the stairs from John’s room. A man in a black suit rushed over to the other woman and began to whisper in her ear, paying no mind to Mary standing there.

“Are you sure?” The other woman asked frowning.

“Yes, ma’am. They all went missing just a few hours before he did.”

“Damn it and there are no witnesses?”

“No ma’am. Not even the cameras captured anything.”

The other woman let out a sigh of frustration because she was at a loss. She didn’t know where to go from here. No one had seen Mycroft or John being taken, not even the damn cameras. _What good are they then?_ Who could have been cleverer enough to slip past everything like that, unseen? _Well, Sherlock of course but he wouldn’t have done this, would he?_ Shaking her head she told him to go back down stairs and get the car ready, he nodded and disappeared. She turned her attention to Mary again and asked, “How well can you handle yourself?”

Mary cocked her head and asked, “What’s this about then?”

“My boss pretty much runs the British Government and right now he is missing. John is missing along with a few other people in his life that he knows.”

“How many others?”

“Four as far as we can tell and one of them is the DI from New Scottland Yard.”

Mary nodded. “Okay, then. What do you need me to do?”

The other woman started heading for the door. “I want you to come with me and I will explain on the way.” They exited the flat, making their way outside and to a black car that was waiting for them.

As they slipped into the back of the car and it pulled away from 221B Mary asked, “I still never got your name.”

The woman looked up from her phone at Mary and said, “Everyone calls me Anthea.”

“Is that your real name?”

Anthea gave her a half smile. “Is Mary Morstan your real name?”

Mary gave her a half smile back. “So, Anthea, what’s the plan?”

“We are heading back to my bosses office to look over the surveillance footage ourselves to see if my men missed something of importance.”

“You believe they have?”

Anthea sighed. “When you work for a Holmes for as many years as I have, you pick up on a few things. I’m sure there is something they missed that I might see to help us on who took them.”

“And what if there is nothing, what then?”

“One problem at a time,” Anthea said looking back down at her phone. Hoping it, daring it to make a sound because she needed Mycroft, and she felt like she had failed him. She was supposed to protect him and now he was; only god knows where, with some crazy person holding him against his will. Mycroft was supposed to be untouchable and when she got him back she will make sure he will be. _Never again Mycroft, I swear it._

*****

Sherlock crept over to the first aid kit, pulling it through the bars; he made his way over to Mycroft and began to work on cleaning his wound. Keeping his back to the telly, he felt like he really didn’t want to listen in on the conversation taking place. He felt so helpless that he couldn’t stop Moriarty from doing anything to his brother, his friends, or to his John. Moriarty was right. There was no way out of this because he had tried, god had he tried but every outcome was more dyer than the last so there wasn’t anything he could do. So, as he gently cleaned Mycroft’s wound he quietly listened to what was happening on the screen behind him.

_“I’m sorry, Greg. I had too. He was going too…”_

_“I expected it from Sherlock. Hell, I excepted it from anyone else but from you, John, really?”_ There was a pause. _“Why?”_

 _“He was going too…”_ Sherlock froze. He could hear it. The hesitation in John’s words about what John saw that night. That how Sherlock could be so brilliant but he was still human and an idiot. It made Sherlock smile. _“It was Sherlock trying to prove…That cabbie was dangerous.”_

_“That doesn’t give you the right. Christ, you had only just met him, John. How could you just…”_

Sherlock understood where the DI was coming from. As a cop, the case was still opened because they never found the gunman responsible. But, then that raised even more questions now than it answered. _Why did John shoot the cabbie for me? Lestrade is right. He only just met me and yet he killed a man, a murderer, but he killed him for me. Why?_ Sherlock waited for a response and when he heard John only manage, _“Because…”_ It still raised more questions than it answered. But, maybe John felt as though he didn’t need to explain himself. Maybe that was it. Sherlock could accept that, couldn’t he? _Metal note: Ask John if we…Delete… **When** we get out of this. _

When there was a moment of silence from the telly, Sherlock pulled out some disinfectant from the first aid kit and gently began to rub it into Mycroft’s wound. He hated himself so much for letting this happen to his brother. _He shouldn’t be here damn it. He should be the one out there looking for us._

 _“John, for what’s it worth he loved you too,”_ Molly said, forcing Sherlock to stop what he was doing and finally look at the screen.

 _“You were everything to him and I am sure I am speaking for everyone when I say that."_ Sherlock watched as Molly’s gaze turned from John’s then.

John stared at Molly with confusion plastered all over his face. _“Molly how could you possibly know…”_ But, suddenly John was silenced by the sound of the sliding door from behind him opening and within seconds Moriarty was standing in front of him once more.

 _“Sorry it took so long my love,”_ Moriarty said looking down into John’s eyes. _“Now, where were we?”_

Sherlock couldn’t help but stare at the screen. John was trying to be brave like the soldier and the captain he still was deep down, but Sherlock knew how Moriarty worked. If something didn’t happen soon then Moriarty was going to break John. _My John_ , the voice growled in his mind. When he heard Moriarty wanting John to pick a number, Sherlock’s stomach tighten in knots. The madman was going to play a game with them too.

_He is going to torture us just like he had done a few minutes ago to Mycroft and now with other human lives, who are your friends, and it’s all your fault. Why? Why couldn’t you have just remained dead?_

“Stop it John!” Sherlock shouted grabbing his hair and pulling on it. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me John!”

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock jumped when he felt Mycroft grab his arm and when he turned he could see Mycroft’s concern in his eyes.

When Mycroft spoke, his tone was soft and his words were of sentiment. “It’s going to be alright, Sherlock. Everything is going to be fine.”

Sherlock couldn’t help it; he threw his arms around his brother then, laying his head on Mycroft’s stomach all the while Mycroft ran his hand gently through his little brother’s unruly curls. It wasn’t often they shared this level of compassion but right now they both needed it, they both needed each other.

“I don’t know what to do. Every scenario, every outcome, it all ends badly Mycroft. I can’t save them.”

Mycroft sighed as he hissed a little from the pain from his new wound. He noticed how Sherlock had been trying to clean it up and smiled. “Thank you for trying to patch me up.”

Sherlock turned his head so he could look at Mycroft. “Hmm? Oh, I still have a little ways to go.” He sat up and proceeded to place the disinfected on which made Mycroft gritted his teeth, hissing through the pain. “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. Just finish up,” Mycroft said softly.

Sherlock nodded, grabbing hold of some bandages and placing them on the wound. He had Mycroft sit up so he could make sure that they would not fall off. “John’s so much better at this then I am.”

Mycroft placed a hand on Sherlock shoulder. “You did fine. Now, about what to do about…”

“Shhh,” Sherlock said abruptly, his eyes fixed on the screen as watched in horror as Moriarty began to burn John. “No,” Sherlock whispered, watching as his doctor slowly started to fall to pieces. “It’s not his fault. This is my fault…all my fault.”

“Sherlock it’s not your fault,” Mycroft said squeezing Sherlock’s shoulder slightly.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulder forcing Mycroft’s hand to fall.“Yes it is! None of this would be happening if I would have just remained dead from his sights.”

Mycroft stared at Sherlock for a moment. “Sherlock, this isn’t your fault. It’s my fault. If I would have known when I checked over his body, I pronounced that monster dead myself and yet there he stands.”

“No, it’s not your fault Mycroft. He tricked us both.”

“So you know how he did it?” Mycroft asked raising an eye brow.

“Yes, of course I know but what does it matter now?”

They both turned towards the screen once more as they heard mention something about a syringe. Moriarty was smiling as he walked over, about to give Anderson a seven percent solution of cocaine when he stopped. He gave Anderson the option of taking the drug or letting John take it and Sherlock was furious when Anderson chose John over himself. _If he’s not going to kill him then I will._ Moriarty walked over and gave John the injection.

“That son of a bitch!” Sherlock snarled.

“Sherlock calm down,” Mycroft said as he stood. He tried to pull his brother into a hug but Sherlock shoved him away.

Mycroft suddenly felt something stinging in his shoulder. He tried to pin point where the pain was coming from and when he felt a knot, he started to grow concerned. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock was watching the screen as Moriarty was talking about Mycroft and Lestrade being a couple and huffed in frustration.

“Sherlock?”

However, it wasn’t until Moriarty began to run his hands on the inside of John’s thighs, Sherlock forced himself to look towards Mycroft. “What?” he snapped.

“I feel a knot here. Can you tell what it is?”

Sherlock walked over to the right side of his brother and began to look around his collarbone. “There is a little scar on top of it but that is all I see.”

Mycroft said nothing, his face twisted in confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m…not sure. All I can think of is…”

Suddenly both men snapped their heads towards the screen when they began to hear John moaning softly. Moriarty hands were slowly inching towards the bugle in John’s trousers that was forming into arousal.

“It’s the drugs Sherlock,” Mycroft whispered.

“I know that but it’s still…”

Suddenly they were thrown back when John suddenly moaned, _“Mmmm, Sherlock.”_ Then followed by Moriarty’s dumb struck expression, Sherlock was now smiling.

They watched in silence as Moriarty stood, running his hand through his hair, he began to pace silently in front of John. Moriarty looked lost and confused by John’s drugged state. _“No, this is not how…”_ Moriarty stopped and looked at John then he turned and looked at Greg, glaring at him as he had John. Without another word Moriarty turned, disappearing from off the screen, hearing the door slid open and close, Sherlock knew Moriarty was on his way to see them.

“He’s coming,” Sherlock said, “I want you to lie back down on the cot.”

“Should I pretend that I am still unconscious?”

“Don’t be an idiot Mycroft. He would know. Just lie down and don’t speak, alright brother mine?”

“Whatever you say brother dear,” Mycroft sneered, glad they still had a little of the old bickering between them.

When the door flew open just moments later Sherlock smiled at Moriarty as he said, “Glad everything is working out for you. So, when did you suppose to have him under your thumb then? Say sometime this century?”

Moriarty snapped his fingers; Moran had his gun out and was pointing it at Sherlock. “If you try anything Sherlock, I will have him shoot you in the leg.” Moriarty turned his attention on Mycroft. “Please join me Mycroft for your second task.”

Mycroft slowly stood. He made his way to the cell door as Moran opened it, all the while keeping his gun fixed on Sherlock. “What is my second task?”

When Moran closed the cell door, he moved back and kept his gun raised. Moriarty smiled and he purred, “We are going to take a little walk, Mm kay?” Moriarty turned and headed out the door. Moran ushered Mycroft out the door waving the gun, Mycroft didn’t hesitate.

Now, in the lift, Moriarty turned his attention to Mycroft and smiled wickedly. “I’m glad you care so much Mycroft. It will make the choice for you easier I think.”

“What is it about?”

The lift stopped as the door opened Moriarty said, “Patience my dear Holmes.” They walked back to the door and had Mycroft this time open it. Moran shoved him into the room as Moriarty was the last to enter. “Sorry it took so long but as you can see it was for good reason.”

Mycroft’s gaze locked onto Greg’s and Mycroft was crushed to see the fear and panic behind them. He wanted to rush over to Greg, to hold him, but he couldn’t.

Moriarty grabbed hold of Mycroft’s arm and dragged him so he was standing in front of John. “Look Pet. Look what I have.”

John lifted his head; his glassy eyes met a pair of familiar blue ones. “Sher…”John paused, shaking his head he tried hard to look through the fog from the effects of the drug. “Mycroft? But, how?”

“I wanted to show you Johnny that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. No one is coming to your rescue. All is lost and they will be too if you don’t agree to my terms Pet.”

“I…what do…you…want me too…do?”

“John do not listen to him, do you hear me?” Mycroft barked hoping he got through to him.

Moriarty hit Mycroft over the back of the head hard enough that Mycroft dropped to his knees. “Shut the hell up!” Moriarty snarled. “I think it’s time for that second task now.” Moriarty grabbed hold of Mycroft hair and yanked his head back, forcing their eyes to meet. “How much do you care about your boyfriend?”

Mycroft glared at Moriarty as he asked, “What do I have to do?”

“Well, it’s more or less who gets to receive it, you or Gregory.”

Mycroft could hear Sherlock screaming again in his head. _“It’s not a bloody task!”_ But, it didn’t matter. Whatever Moriarty had planned wouldn’t be good. Then suddenly his mind drifted back to the basement when Moriarty’s hands began to travel down the front of him to his trousers and Mycroft softly begged him to stop. Moriarty had mention to save that for the second task. _Oh, god no!_ “I think I have a right to know what I would be choosing first, Mister Moriarty.”

Moriarty chuckled. “Fair enough Mister Holmes. It’s a simple as this, I get to jack you off while lover boy gets to watch or I jack him off while you get to watch.” Moriarty mused smiling from ear to ear.

Mycroft slowly stood to his feet, having a strong urge to slap the arrogant smirk off of Moriarty's face. “I choose…”

“Me. Pick me,” Lestrade spat. Both men turned their attention to him.

“No,” Mycroft said. “This is my…”

“Oh, stuff it. You’ve been ordering me about like I’m your little lap dog. I’m tired of…”

“This is my choice,” Mycroft snapped. He turned back to Moriarty. “I choose myself.”

Moriarty watched in awe between the two. “You’re already like an old married couple. It’s adorable.”

Moriarty turned his back and at that moment Mycroft grabbed hold of him. “I should just snap your neck right now,” Mycroft hissed, his voice like ice.

“Ooh, please do Mycroft. I want them to watch as you take my life. Well, go on then, do it.” Moriarty encouraged. “However, before you do, please take a look at that.” Moriarty pointed towards Lestrade. Mycroft followed his gaze and saw a little red light dancing over the DI’s chest but it wasn’t just over his, there was one on each of their chests, all but John’s and his own. “So, please go ahead and snap my neck. Just realize the moment you do that your boyfriend will be joining me in hell.”

Mycroft backed away raising his hands to show his surrender and a moment letter the little red lights vanished.

“Good boy,” Moriarty cooed as he turned towards Moran. “Sebby dear, be a doll and untie Gregory for me please. We will be retreating into the other room for this.” Moran did as instructed and pulled the knife out from his trousers. He then walked over to Greg and cut him free.

As Greg stood, he began to walk over to Mycroft and was about to hug him when Mycroft held up a hand to stop him. Greg’s eyes traveled down to Mycroft’s bandaged chest and asked, “What the hell did he do?”

“It’s nothing,” Mycroft replied as Moran urged them towards the door with the gun in his hand.

“Like hell it’s nothing. You’re chest has bandages on it so don’t tell me it’s nothing when clearly I can see something’s wrong Mycroft.”

Moran forced them into a small room. It had a chair in the center of the room with straps over the arms and legs so it would be able to confine a person to it. Across from the chair was a love seat that was facing the chair so whoever was tied down had to watch whatever happened without interfering. Both men stood in silence as they heard Moriarty entered behind them and closed the door so they could not escape. “Mycroft if you would be so kind as to sit down in the chair for me please.”

Mycroft obeyed, walking over to the chair and sat down. Moran rushed over and began to strap him down as quickly as he could before Mycroft realized what was happening.

“What the hell is this then?” Mycroft hissed as he glared at Moriarty. “I thought the choice was mine to make.”

“It was darling; however, I never said I was going to pick you. I just wanted to know how much you cared and by doing this I will know.” Moriarty hooked his arm around Greg’s and walked him over to the small couch and stopped. He turned so he was looking into the DI’s eyes and smiled. “Don’t be nerves Inspector.” Moriarty began to unbuckle Greg’s trousers and slowly he move downward with them, his eyes never flickering away from his own.

Greg didn’t know what to do. He was scared beyond reason; his legs frozen in place unable to move away. But, he did mange to force his gaze away from Moriarty’s wolfish smile.

“Greg,” Mycroft said softly. “Look at me.” When Greg met Mycroft’s eyes, Mycroft said, “Keep looking at me. Whatever happens, just look at me, alright?”

Greg nodded but then cringed as Moriarty pulled down his pants. Without a word Moriarty stood and pushed his body against Greg’s, forcing him to fall back onto the couch. Lestrade closed his eyes but he heard Mycroft tell him to keep his eyes open and focused on him, so that is what Greg did.

“It’s so amusing that you think with him keeping his focus on you that it will make this any easier for him Mycroft,” Moriarty chuckled as he reached out and snaked his fingers around Greg’s half hard erection. “Look at that Mycroft. Your boy is already hard for me. Such a good boy,” Moriarty cooed while moving his hand slowly up and down Greg’s cock.

Greg felt as though his heart was about to explode, his body cringed from the unwanted touch, and he wanted to scream but his mouth felt like a desert. He wanted to run or at least he wanted to fight back to make this stop but with Moriarty’s henchman pointing a gun at Mycroft’s head, Greg found he couldn’t move. So, he just had to let it happen. _God, please end this!_

“Just keep your focus on me Greg,” Mycroft said sounding like a broken recorder now.

“Such a good boy,” Moriarty purred in Greg’s ear. He began to run his other hand through Greg’s hair. “Mmmm, I bet you’re a handful in the sack. Is he Mycroft?”

“Greg,” Mycroft said his tone sharp. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Greg hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. He fixed his gaze on Mycroft, hoping this would be over soon when Moriarty moved into his line of vision blocking Mycroft from his sight.

“No, focus on me kitten,” Moriarty purred as he began to move his hand faster forcing an involuntary low moan from Greg’s lips. “Mmmm, that’s it Inspector. Such a good boy." Moriarty moved his other hand from Greg's hair to his exposed chest from when Moran and cut his shirt open from his previous orders. "Ooh, such a strong man you have here Mycroft, just like Johnny boy. Ever think of Johnny in that way? I bet the Inspector has, haven't you kitten?" Moriarty asked as he leaned forward and took Greg's earlobe into his mouth. With his hand on Greg's chest, he gently moved his finger tips over one of DI's nipples, forcing a gasp from the DI's lips. "Ooh, someone likes that." Moriarty pinched harder, kneading Greg's nipple between his fingers. "Mmmm, it's alright kitten. You may cum for me.” Moriarty purred into his ear as he kept nibbling at his earlobe.

Greg was close, to close and he hated it. The last thing he wanted was to be getting an orgasm from James Fucking Moriarty and yet here he was about ready to cum all over the psychopath’s hand. Greg found he couldn't help it. It felt amazing and he felt more ashamed because he didn't want it too. His breathing was heaver, his pupils were blow wide but he did his best to hold on. He didn't want to cum at the madman's command, not in front of the man he...

“It’s alright Greg. I’m here for you,” Mycroft said softly, which surprisingly sent Greg over the edge. He came all over Moriarty’s hand, his head pressed back into the cushion as his face was twisted in pleasure and anguish. He hated himself but most of all he hated Moriarty for doing this to him.

Moriarty held up his hand so Moran could place a towel in it to clean Greg’s cum from his hand. “Such a good boy,” Moriarty purred and he moved to sit beside Greg more comfortably. “Well, that was fun. We should do this again real soon.”

“Don’t count on it,” Mycroft snarled, ready to tare Moriarty apart limb by limb.

“Oh, Mycroft,” Moriarty snickered, “You say the most adorable things but that was your second task so I guess it’s back to your little play pin and Gregory here will be rejoining the group to continue our little game with John.”

“Put me in Greg’s place,” Mycroft said.

“Sorry Mycroft. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Mycroft asked his voice sounding a little desperate.

“Well, I don’t want to. The game is a lot better this way, don’t you agree Sebby dear?”

Moran stepped into view and nodded. “Yes, sir. I think it’s your best yet.”

Moriarty’s smiled big as his eyes darken. “Tell me Sebby dear. You asked me before about wanting to play with one of the hostages. Do you recall what I told you?”

“That if I was good you would probably even let me keep one.”

“That’s right. Now, at that time did you have one of them in mind?”

“Yes, but…now I think I changed my mind.”

“Ooh, really now? Tell me Sebby dear, who is your new choice?”

Moran walked until he stood behind the love seat. He leaned his hand down and began to run his fingers through Greg’s chest hair making Greg's body stiffen from the sudden contact.

Moriarty nodded. “He would be a good choice for you. Just as challenging as Johnny boy and just a fierce.”

“I won’t let you take him,” Mycroft growled.

Moriarty laughed. “Oh, Mycroft you say the most adorable things. Tell me, in what delusional universe do you think you have any say in this matter, hm? It's not like you can stop me. Hell, I just jerked off your boyfriend in front of you and yet here we still are. We will be done when I say we’ll be done here and that could take awhile my dear. So, just sit back and enjoy the show.” Moriarty helped Greg to his feet and helped him pull up his pants and then his trousers. Greg’s legs were shaky but Moriarty let the DI use him as a crutch to lean on. “Sebby dear, please return Mister Holmes back to his play pin and then I want you back up stairs with me. I will take Greg back to his friends and we’ll go from there, alright?”

“Yes sir,” Moran said as he began to undo the straps.

Moriarty began to walk Greg out when Greg forced himself to stop. The DI had recovered enough to turn and look back at Mycroft with the eyes of lost hope or that is what Mycroft had thought. However, the DI smiled softly as he looked Mycroft in the eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Mycroft was in shock and couldn’t find his voice to speak. It was the first time either of them had said it in the time they had been together. He wanted to say it back but Moriarty dragged him out the door before Mycroft could recover.

Morgan did as he was told and forced Mycroft back down into the cell with Sherlock. When he had the cell locked Morgan said, “Don’t worry Mister Holmes. I’ll take could care of him.”

Mycroft threw himself out the bars and hissed, “I will break your fingers one by one if you ever touch him again.”

Moran chuckled. “We’ll see.” Moran turned and left to rejoin his boss back up stairs.

Moriarty had placed Greg back into his chair but did not tie him down just yet. He looked to John and said, “It’s time to pick another number Johnny boy. Who’s it going to be this time?”

  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is always hope.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank so many of you for reading my story and for the ones that left me such wonderful comments. Thank you. It's really what is keeping me to push this forward until it is done. I love how this is turning out and I can't wait to post the ending very soon. Hope you enjoy this mind blowing chapter.  
> 

Moriarty stood in front of John waiting for his answer. “Johnny boy, I need to know what you have decided.”

John was tired and he just wanted to sleep but he knew Moriarty would drag this out as long as he wasn’t bored, so they weren’t going anywhere. He looked towards the three remaining and tried to calculate how Moriarty was picking them by their numbers but it was quite difficult with the drug in his system. “I…one.”

Moriarty smiled, walking over now to stand in front of Irene Alder. “You had a job to do and you let your feelings cloud your judgment. Women are so pathetic,” Moriarty sneered, his face twisting in disgust.

“I did my job. It’s not my fault you underestimated him,” Irene muttered.

Moriarty’s hand shot out around Irene’s throat and started to squeeze. “I wouldn’t be standing here my dear if I hadn’t underestimated him,” Moriarty spat venomously. He suddenly released Irene’s throat, listening to her cough, trying to fill her lungs back up with air; Moriarty turned towards John and hissed, “Choose!”

John just wanted all this to end. His brain was fighting against him as he tried to think of any coherent thoughts of any kind to talk his way out of this but found he was failing. “Sorry…cattle prod.”

Moriarty grinned wickedly. “I love how you save that for her Johnny. Do you really hate her that much?”

John shook his head. “No. I…don’t…hate her.”

“Well, no matter,” Moriarty turned to her then. “You know how to play Miss Alder. Do you wish to take the torture or do you wish Johnny too?”

Irene could see it in the fire burning behind the psychopath’s eyes, and knew how he was playing this game. He wanted them all to pick John for the torture but not before John picked the torture device from them. It was all psychological and it was brilliant. “Jim please don’t do…”

Without warning Moriarty slapped Irene across the face. “Don’t you dare you worthless little whore. You have no right.” He moved so their faces were just inches from each other, his eyes darkening significantly. “Choose,” he snarled.

“John,” Irene whimpered, her body shuttering with the madman being so close to her.

“Good girl,” Moriarty said as he turned, heading for the table. He picked up the cattle prod that looked to be about five feet long with two metal electrodes at the end of the shock point. He held it out so John could see it. “I love this thing. The cattle prods today are so much more powerful then they use to be. Did you know the voltage can get up to 5 million volts? It’s incredible how humans can be such cruel and yet clever creatures. So many have designed methods to hurt and destroy – it’s truly fascinating.” He paused a moment then cooed, “To capture and to mold, all you have to do is push the right buttons.”

Moriarty pressed the shock end into John’s stomach forcing him to scream; his body convulsed from the pain. John’s vision blurred as a horrible pain consumed him. Moriarty held it there for just a few seconds more before pulling it away, watching as John’s body went limp.

“Anything that touches the electric current receives a high-voltage low-current shock, not strong enough to kill a human but strong enough to cause significant pain,” Moriarty said as if he were giving a lecture. God, John wanted to grab it and shove it up his ass. Moriarty smiled big as he pressed cattle prod against John’s stomach once more, watching as John’s body spasm and listening to his screams fill the empty warehouse. After a few seconds Moriarty pulled it away. “I’m wondering something Johnny. What would happen if I pressed this against your scar?”

John’s eyes grew wide, terrified of the amount of pain that would cause. He could feel his stomach turning, nauseated, head spinning unsure of how much more of this he could take. “Please, anything but that,” John whimpered trying to take deep breaths to keep himself from vomiting.

“But, I’m just ever so curious now. I think it will be delightful.” Moriarty moved the cattle prod towards John’s shoulder. John tried to flinch away but Moriarty pressed it to John’s shoulder making him scream like he had never screamed before.

“Oh, god! Please, stop! Make it stop!” John scream, thrashing about, his vision darkening hoping he was about to pass out.

Suddenly Greg leapt from his chair and rushed at Moriarty; however, Moran was waiting for the DI to make a move and intercepted the tackle. Both men crashed to the floor trying to gain the upper hand over the other. Greg now straggling Moran and was rearing his fist back about ready to punch him when Moriarty placed the cattle prod into Greg’s back forcing Greg to scream. Moran now having the upper hand punched Greg in the stomach forcing the DI to fall to the floor. Moran took the opportunity to straddle Greg, grabbing hold of the DI’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Moran looked over his shoulder at his boss and asked, “Sir may I?”

Moriarty smiled as he cooed, “Not yet Sebby dear but you could always “steal” one.”

Moran grinned wickedly and turned his attention back to Greg.

Before Greg knew was happening, he felt Moran’s lips hungrily pressing against his own. Greg was finding it hard to breath, his mind in shock. But, he attempts to turn his head to break free; however, Moran bit down on his bottom lip keeping his head still. Moran growled deep in his throat as he began to press his tongue against Greg’s lips forcing his way inside. Greg now realized how futile his attempt was to try and stop Moriarty. _That little shit. He left me untied on purpose for this._

Greg doesn’t know how long the kiss lasted but when Moran finally pulled his lips away, both men are panting, trying hard to catch their breaths. Moran pressed his forehead against Greg’s and whispered, “I can’t wait to break you.”

Greg was horrified. He wanted nothing to do with this man and began to twist and buck, trying hard to free himself, however, that only made Moran grip him tighter. The man was more fit then that of the DI and it made Greg begin to rethink about needing to work out more, if he ever got out of this.

Suddenly Moran moved his lips down to his exposed chest while he slowly began to rock his hips. Greg shuttered feeling the lunatic’s erection grinding into him through his trousers, forcing Greg to close his eyes hoping, praying, that some higher power would make this stop.

“That’s enough,” Moriarty ordered but Moran kept sucking at Greg’s chest, his hips moving faster as he paid no mind to his boss words. Moriarty walked over and grabbed Moran by the hair and yanked back making Moran whimper. “I said, that’s enough,” Moriarty command.

“I’m sorry sir. I got carried away.”

“Tie him back up and make your rounds,” Moriarty snarled, shoving his head forward as he released him.

Moran did not hesitate as he jumped to his feet, pulling Greg up and forcing him back to his chair. He grabbed hold of some new rope and made sure the DI was tied securely to the chair before he disappeared from his boss's sights.

Moriarty turned his attention back to John, kneeling before him once more. “Johnny my love, are we ready to listen to what Daddy has to offer you or would you like to move on to the next torture?”

John felt a little more aware of what Moriarty was saying to him. He believes the cattle prod to his shoulder might have “sobered” his mind up in some form even though his body still felt drained. He wanted to tell Moriarty to go to hell but he knew it would be a mistake. That Moriarty would continue torturing him and he knew he probably would not survive the next round. Shaking his head he whispered, “I can’t…” John turned his head away meeting Molly’s gaze. Deep down he knew she would be the next one to be chosen and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t do that. Not to her.

“You can’t what Johnny?” Moriarty asked his voice soothing as he moved a hand gently against John’s inner thigh.

John turned his attention back to Moriarty. His head was pounding from the blow to the back of his head, that until this moment he had forgotten about and now it hurt from the electricity. “What do you want from me?” John’s voice was dangerously uneven. He was tired. So, very tired and he wanted all this to end, whatever that would in tell.

Moriarty smirked as he looked into John’s glassy blue eyes, seeing the defeat, knowing John was so very close to giving into him. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you Johnny. All this has been about breaking you down so I could rebuild you into the man you were meant to be. Being with Sherlock, you were in the shadows, his loyal lap dog and no one saw you. Well, I saw you Johnny. I had to make sure to get Sherlock out of the way so I could take you but then I got side tracked. I’m sorry for that but I’m here now my love and I always will be.”

John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. James Moriarty wanted him. HIM! _He saw you and he is here for you. The most dangerous man in London wants you to be his!_ John looked back at Moriarty and actually really looked at him for the first time sense the pool. Even then when the vest was being strapped to him, Moriarty was talking to him and for once John felt like he was the center of the two genius’s worlds. Well, now he knew at least he was the center of one.

But, it all still seemed to cereal. After a few moments John chocked out, “Why?”

Moriarty cocked his head to the side, a seemingly sincere smile on his face. “Because you and I Johnny, we are the same. So much hurt, so much pain, no one could understand your nightmares, no one but me. I’m here to make it better Johnny. I want to make you better.” Moriarty stood then and looked around to find the knife that Moran had dropped in the struggle with Greg. He began to cut John loose of his binds and held out his hand when he freed him. “Come with me.”

*****

Anthea sat in front of some high tech surveillance equipment, in Mycroft’s office, looking over the CCTV footage around the apartment of 221B. “Come on Mycroft. There’s got to be something.”

“We’ve been over these a hundred times, I haven’t seen anything,” Mary scowled, annoyed that these camera’s weren’t as high tech as the British Government calmed them to be.

To Anthea annoyance, she knew Mary was right. It had been now 42 hours sense they had vanished and Anthea started to fear the worst for her boss and John, however, she kept hearing Mycroft’s voice whispering in the back of her mind to not give up hope but all seemed to dyer at this point. “Give me something Mycroft! Damn you! Anything!” Suddenly Anthea’s phone began to chirp a sound she had so longed to hear. With hands like lighting, she shot down and brought it up to her face. “Oh, my god! It’s working!” Anthea threw back the chair and rushed for the door, Mary close on her heels.

“What? What is it? What’s working?” Mary asked confused from the level of excitement now radiating off the other woman.

Anthea rushed down the hallway to another room that looked like an armory. “When Mycroft was first brought on into his position of power it was my job to protect him. Well, months into working for him, he and I went out for a night cap. It was nice and Mycroft can be a very charming man when he chooses to be. Well, as we left we were jumped and Mycroft was taken. Days went by before I heard anything from the kidnappers and all they wanted was to break him. So, I did what anyone would do in my position, I got Sherlock to find him. It took two more days until Sherlock brought Mycroft back, thankfully in one piece but I swore to myself I would never let that happen again.”

“Okay,” Mary said slowly still trying to catch up. “That doesn’t explain why you’re so excited.”

Anthea moved over to Mary and showed the other woman her phone. “Do you see that little red dot?”

Mary nodded, “Yeah, so.”

“That’s Mycroft.”

Mary’s eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“Yep, I had him chipped in order to always know where he is.”

“So what happened then?”

“Sherlock had roughed him up a bit which made the chip stop working. I couldn’t get close to Mycroft to fix the damn thing without alarming him he has it, mainly because he doesn’t know he has it.”

“Why did you chip in to begin with?”

Anthea paused for a moment. “I was afraid of losing him again.”

Mary nodded, excepting that as an answer even Mycroft couldn’t argue with. “What do you suppose made it start working again?”

Anthea smiled as she said, “I don’t know but right now I don’t care.” She pulled on a pair of black combat pants along with the boots to match. Strapping guns to her body, she smiled at Mary as she watched her doing the same thing. Before they headed out Anthea grabbed a pair of radios and turned them to a frequency she knew no one be listening to, handing one of the to Mary. “Let’s go get them back, shall we?”

Mary waved her hand towards the door and said, “After you.”

Once in the car Anthea began to bark out orders to a team as they speed towards the warehouse location. Anthea just hoped she would make it in time before anything truly bad happened. _I’m coming boys, just hold on._ It didn’t take Anthea long to get to the warehouse, since she partially knew London like the back of her hand, the team was in position, ready for her orders. Anthea and Mary quickly and quietly made their way towards one of the basement windows that had been boarded up. It only took a few seconds to loosen it and slip their way inside undetected.

“Which way?” Mary whispered.

Anthea looked at her phone, pointing she said, “This way.”

*****

Mycroft was pacing their cell like a caged lion, enraged to the point he really wanted to hurt something or more precise someone.

Sherlock stood back from him, watching silently in shock and awe to see his brother like that. Finally Sherlock asked, “Alright?”

Mycroft threw up his hands in frustration as he barked, “Does it bloody look like I’m alright, Sherlock?”

Sherlock flinched. He was not use to the level of tone from his brother.

Mycroft stole a glance at Sherlock and then stopped. He looked to his brother for the first time since he had returned back into the cell. Sherlock looked confused, lost, and concerned. Mycroft let out a low sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Sherlock took a step towards Mycroft then. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder as he asked, “What happened?”

Mycroft didn’t want to go into it. He didn’t want to go into how helpless he was as he was forced to watch Moriarty jerk off Greg in front of him. It made him furious but he tried to keep his composer as best he could for Sherlock’s state of mind. “Moriarty…he...” Mycroft closed his eyes, trying hard to keep his voice level. “He jerked Greg off instead of me. Said he knew it would hurt me more because of _caring_.” Mycroft spat out the last word like it left a sour taste in his mouth. “Damn it!” Mycroft began to pace once more. He hated this and had a very strong urge to cut off Moriarty’s hands.

“Mycroft I…” Sherlock began but was cut off by the sound of screams from the telly. Both men spun realizing the next torture had begun. Moriarty was smiling wickedly as he pressed a cattle prod into John’s stomach forcing him to scream.

“NO!” Sherlock screamed forcing himself against the bars, his eyes locked onto the screen.

_“I’m wondering something Johnny. What would happen if I pressed this against your scar?”_

Sherlock watched horrified seeing John’s eyes grow wide, terrified of the amount of pain that would cause.

 _“Please, anything but that,”_ John whimpered trying to take deep breaths, what Sherlock could guess was to keep himself from vomiting.

 _“But, I’m just ever so curious now. I think it will be delightful.”_ Moriarty moved the cattle prod towards John’s shoulder. John tried to flinch away but Moriarty pressed it to John’s shoulder making him scream like he had never screamed before.

 _“Oh, god! Please, stop! Make it stop!”_ John scream, thrashing about.

Sherlock couldn’t help it. He turned away at that moment, however, Mycroft was still watching the screen and watched Greg suddenly leap from his chair and rush at Moriarty; however, Moran was waiting for the DI to make a move and intercepted the tackle.

Sherlock turned in time to see both men crashed to the floor, one trying to gain the upper hand over the other. Greg now straggling Moran and was rearing his fist back about ready to punch him when Moriarty placed the cattle prod into Greg’s back forcing Greg to scream. Moran now having the upper hand punched Greg in the stomach forcing the DI to fall to the floor. Moran took the opportunity to straddle Greg, grabbing hold of the DI’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Moran looked over his shoulder at his boss and asked, _“Sir may I?”_

Moriarty smiled as he cooed, _“Not yet Sebby dear but you could always “steal” one.”_

Both, Sherlock and Mycroft watched in silence, their stomachs tightening in knots as Moran bent down and began to kiss Greg.

That’s when Mycroft turned away, walking over to the cot and began to kick it.

Sherlock jumped, spinning in shock to see this much rage from his brother, now realizing something more must have happened in that room. He walked over and forced Mycroft to face him. “Something else happened in that room, didn’t it? Tell me.”

Mycroft could see the worry in his brother’s eyes. He looked like he’d use to right before a storm. Such a small and frightened child, cradled in his arms to protect him from all the monsters of the world, but this was something far beyond them both. Moriarty was a force of nature and no one could predict what the psychopath was going to do next.

“Mycroft, please?” Sherlock’s voice was soft, Mycroft noted, and fragile. But, he had a right to know since now they shared the same enemy.

“After it was all over and Moriarty was escorting Greg out of the room, Greg turned back to me and told me…he…loved me.” Mycroft felt a knot forming in his throat and tried he his best to suppress it. He chocked it down, burying it, because if he was going to get out of this he wanted to save all his rage for both Moriarty and his little lap dog.

Sherlock didn’t know what to say. He knew what John meant to him and that yes he did in fact love John but to see his brother have those kinds of feelings too, it was odd. He was about to say something, hopefully of comfort when Mycroft turned his attention back to the screen.

Greg was retied to the chair, Moriarty’s henchman was nowhere to be seen, and now seeing Moriarty once again kneeling back down in front of John made Sherlock furious. He wanted to take the cattle prod and shove it up his ass.

_“What do you want from me?”_

Sherlock noted how John’s voice was dangerously uneven and how tired, no defeated he looked. It began to scare Sherlock that Moriarty was starting to break John, his John, and he might not get him back if couldn’t figure out how to get out of here.

Moriarty smirked as he looked into John’s glassy blue eyes. _“Isn’t it obvious? I want you Johnny. All this has been about breaking you down so I could rebuild you into the man you were meant to be. Being with Sherlock, you were in the shadows, his loyal lap dog and no one saw you. Well, I saw you Johnny. I had to make sure to get Sherlock out of the way so I could take you but then I got side tracked. I’m sorry for that but I’m here now my love and I always will be.”_

Moriarty’s words chilled Sherlock to his very core. He was trying to take his John away from him. “No John! Don’t listen to him! I’m here! I’m right here!” But, now looking at John, deducing his friends face as he looked at Moriarty, Sherlock’s heart sank. He was losing him.

Finally John chocked out, _“Why?”_

Moriarty cocked his head to the side, a seemingly sincere smile on his face. _“Because you and I Johnny, we are the same. So much hurt, so much pain, no one could understand your nightmares, no one but me. I’m here to make it better Johnny. I want to make you better.”_

“Damn it John please!” Sherlock shouted. “Don’t!”

They watched as Moriarty stood then and looked around to find the knife that Morgan had dropped in the struggle with Greg. He began to cut John loose of his binds and held out his hand when he freed him. _“Come with me.”_

Sherlock turned, unable to watch as John disappeared off screen with his archenemy. Then, a memory popped into his head, when they first had met and how John had mentioned something about an archenemy.

_“I just met one of your friends,”John had said._

_“A friend?” Sherlock asked curiously._

_“An enemy."_

_“Oh,” came Sherlock’s simple reply._

_There was a pause._

_“Which one?”_

_“Your archenemy, according to him. Do people have archenemies?"_

_“Did he offer you money to spy on me?"_

_“Yes.”_

_“Did you take it?”_

_“No.”_

_“Pity, we could have split the fee. Think it through next time.”_

Sherlock turned towards Mycroft then who was staring back at him with a mixture of pain and sorrow on him face. In the short amount of time they had been trapped together they both have found a new kind of bond, or comfort, in their brotherly relationship. Sherlock walked over and threw his arms around his brother’s waste, burying his face into Mycroft’s chest, careful to avoild his brother's bandaged wound. Mycroft put one arm around Sherlock’s back and the other up to his head, running his hand through Sherlock’s hair, to comfort him. There was silence until…

“Well, there is something you don’t see every day.”

Both men jump apart, spinning to face a much uninspected sight.

Anthea, along with another woman, was standing outside their cell with a big smile on her face. “Do you still need a moment? I can come back later and…”

Both, Sherlock and Mycroft spat out at the same time, “Open the door.”

Anthea did not hesitate. She pointed her gun (which was a silencer) and shot the cell door opened.

Both, Sherlock and Mycroft raced out pleased to see Anthea.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear,” Mycroft said.

“I know. I’m just glad I found you.”

Sherlock was still puzzled. “How did you find us?”

Anthea gave an “innocent” smile and said, “Later. Right now I think we need to get out of here, don’t you?”

“Not without John and the others,” Sherlock grumbled.

“So, there are others,” Anthea said as she then looked at Mycroft. “Lestrade?”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes he is one of the hostages.”

Anthea nodded. She looked at Sherlock. “I have a team standing by awaiting my orders. What’s the plan?”

Sherlock looked to the other woman and frowned. “Who’s this then?”

Mary stepped forward, smiling big as she said, “I’m a nurse that works for your friend John, Mr. Holmes. I must say it is a shock to see you’re still alive.”

Sherlock stared at her a moment and all went a blur as his mind began to deduce her. _Not now._ He had no time because he had to get John away from Moriarty as quickly as possible so he refocused his mind and looked towards Anthea. “There is a main room where the hostages are being kept. Mycroft has been there and can lead you too it, however, there are snipers up in the rafters.”

Anthea smiled. “Leave that to me.”

Sherlock headed for the door when Mycroft reached out, grabbing hold of Sherlock arm stopping him as he asked, "Where are you going?”

Sherlock turned back and said, “To get my John back.”

Anthea grabbed one of her guns and tossed it over to Sherlock. “Here, you’ll need it.”

Sherlock caught it and said, “Let’s end this.”

All headed out the door, Mycroft and Anthea went one way, while Mary followed Sherlock for extra support under Anthea’s orders. It wouldn’t have been a big deal but since they were dealing with James Moriarty it was best to remain with a Holmes.

*****

Moran was pissed but he was pissed at himself more than anything. Never had he lost focus like that before but never had he been given something as delectable as the DI all to himself. He felt the need to return to the main room since he knew Moriarty would not be in there so he could play with his new toy but decided against it. So, instead he made his way down towards the basement.

Soon as the lift doors opened, he quietly walked the corridor when suddenly he heard something out of the ordinary. He froze, hearing a pair of footsteps making their way down the opposite corridor. Moran slipped into a side room and closed the door enough so he could peer out unseen. As the footsteps got closer Moran almost gasped out loud when he saw the two women now walking past his door and heading straight for where the Holmes brothers were being held.

He was silently cursing to himself as watched the two women disappear into the room, closing the door behind them. Moran felt the urge to take them by surprise but he knew they would not be alone considering one of the two was Mycroft’s assistant and body guard. So, as quickly as he could Moran made his way back to the lift and headed up to warn Moriarty of their unwelcomed trespassers.

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end?  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for the amount of feedback and and likes or kudos I have gotten. It really helps to see how many of you are really enjoying this. Although if it does seem a little rocky I am sorry. Not easy to write sometimes with pain meds in ones system. But anyway, thank you and I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> When writing I love looking up Sherlock video's that fans have pieced together and listening to the amazing heartfelt or heartbroken song that goes with it. This chapter was inspired by this video and song. 
> 
> The video below is to a youtube video someone pieced together. I watch this and listen to the song a lot when I'm writing. The song is...
> 
> "This is life without you." 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjPsEoFYL7U  
> 

John wanted to protest going with Moriarty but out of the corner of his eye he could see a small flicker of a little red dot on Molly’s forehead. It made John angry but he didn’t want to alarm Molly of it so instead he reached out taking Moriarty’s hand in his own.

Moriarty smiled as he helped John to his feet (who was unsteady and dizzy for the drug still in his system) and led him out of the room. They walked the corridor in silence until Moriarty ushered him into small cement room that was poorly lit, however, the contents of the room did not go unnoticed.

John’s eyes grew wide as he saw a king size bed with under the bed restraints against the far wall. He spun on his heels as he saw Moriarty close the door and proceed to walk towards him, a predatory grin on his face.

“All mine,” Moriarty growled as he grabbed for the back of John’s head, pulling him into a fierce kiss. It was wet, messes, and painful. But, fuck, it was hot. After a few seconds Moriarty pulled back and placed his forehead against John’s. “I want you John.”

It sent shivers throughout John’s entire body to hear that low Irish baritone voice growl out his name. “I…” John closed his eyes wanting to be lost in the moment when suddenly the memory of watching Sherlock fall to his death, the sound the body made as it hit the pavement, and seeing Sherlock’s bloody body on the sidewalk. It all came crashing down on him and the psychopath standing before him drove his best friend to that. The man he had killed for, the man he had loved. John pulled away from him then. He didn’t want Moriarty; he wanted Sherlock…didn’t he?

However, Moriarty grabbed hold and pulled John into him as he tried to make his voice sound as comforting as possible. “But, who is standing here Johnny. Even if Sherlock were still alive, where he is? He saved Miss Alder but here you still are, with me. I want to take care of everything you lost, everything that you have suffered and make it better for you. Please, John let me make it better. If you do, I promise to never let you go.”

John still was so unsure of Moriarty and his words. The criminal sounded sincere enough but that didn’t mean he meant any word of it. How could he be sure he wouldn’t leave him just like Sherlock… _No, don’t do that. He didn’t leave you. Moriarty took him from you even if he says it’s to be with you. There could have been another way, couldn’t there have been?_ Thinking about Sherlock now, John knew that if his flatmate were still around, Sherlock wouldn’t have given him up. Not without a fight, wouldn’t he? _But, he isn’t here, Moriarty is, and he wants you. Let him. What do you have to lose?_

Moriarty put a hand under John’s chin (forcing John out of his thoughts) and lifted so his icy blue orbs met that of the criminal’s black pools of lust. “All mine,” Moriarty repeated softly as he moved his lips towards John’s, this time the kiss being gentle, soft and inviting. John even found himself humming softly into the criminal’s mouth.

 _What the hell are you doing? Don’t give in now! Fight him!_ The voice in his head screamed, trying one last time to negotiate with his better judgment, however, John knew he couldn’t do anything to stop this even if the voice in his mind wanted him too. His friends lives were still at stake, so to protect them, to keep them alive, he couldn’t listen to that voice anymore. So, he simply gave in.

“Mmmm, that’s it Johnny. Give in to me.” Moriarty walked around behind John and pulled what was left of his shirt off. Then he walked back around and began to unbutton John’s jeans. John’s hand shot out stopping Moriarty’s hand just as he began to unzip his fly.

“No…” John breathed; his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sure that is nothing more than a reflex my love because deep down I know we both want this,” Moriarty cooed, “Do you want to know how I know that?”

John couldn’t find the voice to speak so he simply shakes his head.

“God, Johnny, where to begin! There were so many nights I fantasized about you after that night at the pool, when you grabbed me from behind, and damn that was sexy. My dreams went haywire about how I wanted to strap you down to my bed and slowly work you open one slicked up finger at a time. Then, making sure you were nice and opened for me, I would gently press my cock inside you, starting out with slow thrusts until you begged me for more.” He moved his lips to John’s ear as he growled, “And trust me when say I would have you begging me for it.”

John’s entire body shivered, his legs almost giving way as the image fought its way into his mind of Moriarty down between his legs working him open slowly with those dark brown eyes boring into his own. The image excited him and to his surprise in more ways than one.

Moriarty grabbed for the front of John’s jeans, kneading the bugle through them as he purred, “Well at least someone wants Daddy to play.”

John slowly released his hand, letting it fall back down at his side. He knew there was no fighting this. Not anymore. _No one was coming, all hope gone, so why fight it? Just give in._

“There’s my good boy,” Moriarty purred and he left John’s jeans alone for the moment. He began to slowly push John backwards towards the bed. “I want to make you feel like you are a king and no one will ever hurt you Johnny. Not with me around. If someone does I will skinnn them and make them into a pair of shoes.”

John’s breath hitched as Moriarty spoke of protecting him and even though it was wrong, so very wrong, it was fucking hot. He was finding the idea of being with Jim even more appealing. Then, he was thrown off guard as Moriarty pushed him back onto the bed, the criminal quickly straddling him. John stared up into those dark pools of lust of the criminal’s intense gaze, weary of if this was still all for real or not. He still had doubt (Or maybe it was the drugs still) and he felt that he had to say what was on his mind. He had to understand and he hoped the criminal mastermind would not get bored with him if he decided to take him. “I still don’t understand. Why me? I’m nothing special.”

Moriarty’s brow furrowed, leaning forward, he ran a hand over John’s chest, careful not to touch the knife wound that Moran had given to him earlier. “Nothing special? Oh, poppet you are so wrong, so very wrong. Sherlock with his massive intellect still couldn’t see what he had in you or what he could have had with you. You’re perfect. Every inch of you and I will let you in on a little secret my love. There isn’t an inch of you I don’t want to see and hopefully taste.” Moriarty winked at him as he moved his lips down to John’s scar on his shoulder and began to suck, sending involuntary spasms through John’s entire body.

“Oh, god,” John gasped, closing his eyes as he threw his head back, losing himself in the mixture of pain and pleasure. It felt incredible.

“I’ve thought about this a lot Johnny. About how I would suck on your scar to see if it would make you cum. Do you think it will?”

John could feel himself straining against his jeans. God, he wanted them off and damn it he wanted Moriarty to touch him. “Oh, god yes,” he groaned.

Moriarty growled deep in his throat. “Does Johnny want Daddy to give him relief?”

John was completely lost in the moment. God, he hated Moriarty but at the same time he made him feel wanted, like he had purpose again. Since his time back from the war; John had no place in this world. He did miss the war, the sound of gun play, the smell of blood and this man could give that all back to him. _Moriarty could even play out your darkest of fantasies._

Moriarty slid his hand down inside John’s pants (jarring John out of his thoughts) and let out a trophy coo as he found what he was looking for. “God, Johnny you’re so fucking hard for me. Tell me you want me to tie you down and fuck you until you can’t walk for a week. Come on Johnny. You know only Daddy can ever be the one to please you.”Moriarty began to suck at his scar once more. “Tell me Johnny. Tell Daddy you want me to fuck you!”

John could barely found his voice, lost in the feeling of Moriarty’s hand around his cock, while his lips were sucking away at his scar. It was so overwhelming. John’s body shook uncontrollably as Moriarty continued violating his body. It was intoxicating, utterly consuming him and he felt as though he never wanted it to stop. “Christ Jim,” John groaned, his voice catching in his throat. “Oh, fuck! I want you too…”

Suddenly, without warning, the door flew open making both, Moriarty and John jump. Moriarty turned to see Moran with a panicked look on his face. “What?” Moriarty snarled, furious to be interrupted when he had John so close to being his.

“We have uh…to go sir.”

Moriarty’s face went blank as he pulled his hand out of John’s pants and removed himself from on top of the good doctor. He walked over to Moran and whispered, “Who?”

“Its Anthea sir,” Moran whispered back, his voice a little uneven.

Moriarty’s face twisted in confusion and rage. “How?” What had he missed? He had everything worked out. Not even the CCTV cameras should have picked up anything. He made sure he was careful, so damn careful. So, what the hell did he miss? _Damn it!_ Moriarty turned and rushed over towards John, grabbing him by the hand as he said, “Time to go my love.”

John wanted to argue but thought better on it as he kept pace with Moriarty.

As they entered the main room Moran gave a gun to Moriarty and watched as his boss dragged John towards the far side of the room, towards a grey door, while he rushed over to untie Greg. “You’re coming too kitten,” Moran muttered excited he was finally going to be able to have the man all to himself.

When Greg was freed he wanted to just jump the man, to wrestle him to the ground but he saw the laser targets dancing across the others chests and decided against it. Pick your battles Greg.

Moran pulled out another gun from his ankle holster and spat, “Move!”

Greg did not hesitate as Moran held onto him, forcing him towards the direction of where Moriarty had taken John. They disappeared from sight leaving the others questioning on what the hell was happening when suddenly they heard the sound of guns being cocked and shared a glance at one another realizing that this was it. They all were going to die.

*****

Mycroft and Anthea made their way towards the lift. Once they were on it, Anthea was curious as to what happened to her boss’s chest. Keeping her eyes forward she opened her mouth to speak but Mycroft had beat her too it.

“I’m fine,” Mycroft said before she had a chance to speak.

“What did he do?”

“I’m alright. It’s nothing,” Mycroft said flatly, trying to dismiss the issue.

“But, you have bandages on your chest so clearly it’s not just nothing Mycroft.”

Mycroft, noted the concern in her tone letting his face soften a little. “You sound like Greg.”

“Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one who cares.”

There was another moment of silence and before the lift doors opened, Anthea turned towards Mycroft and could see something was different about him. He wasn’t holding himself the way he usually did. The silence felt a little awaked, the ride almost coming to their stop, Anthea began to say, “Sir, I think I should explain how I…”

“Now is not the time for that my dear,” Mycroft said abruptly. “Let’s just stay focused, alright?”

Anthea nodded in agreement as the lift doors opened, she followed Mycroft down the corridor to a big melt sliding door. “Is this it?”

Mycroft nodded.

“Can you recall how many snipers there are sir?”

Mycroft thought back from when he had first entered the room. His eyes had gone right to Greg’s but then he had turned away, recalling how many hostages he had seen beside him. “At least five,” he muttered.

Anthea nodded as she began to bark orders into her radio to her team, informing them on the situation. Moments later her team was up in the rafter’s guns cocking shouting freeze and thankfully no one was hurt. Anthea and Mycroft made their way into the room making Mycroft pause to see Greg was gone. They rushed over to the hostages and he asked, “Where is he?”

Irene was the one to answer him. “Moriarty ran through here a few moments ago towards that far door,” she said nodding with her head towards a grey melt door, “He was dragging John behind him and Moran came over and told Greg he was going with them too.”

Mycroft’s rage was so close to exploding. This had to end. He turned to see a very confused Anthea, who had been staring at a supposed dead Irene Alder. Mycroft reached out grabbing her arm to refocus on the task hand and asked, “Sherlock?” Ignoring the few gasps that came from behind him, he watched as Anthea was now barking into her radio to Mary informing her that Moriarty was tipped off and they are on the run with John and Greg.

Mary answered back saying they saw Moriarty heading for the boat dock and was heading that way. Anthea looked towards Mycroft who demanded a gun and when she handed him one to him, he took off towards the grey door (with Anthea following suit) in hopes he would make it in time.

*****

Moriarty had a boat waiting and forced them to get on. Moran tied John’s and Greg’s hands behind their backs, sitting them towards the front of the boat before rushing to unhook the boat from the dock so they could take off.

Moriarty stood in front of both men who looked lost and defeated. “Look alive boys. You’re with Daddy now. We will be one big happy family too. I promise.”

“Fuck you,” Greg spat.

“Oooo, someone’s eager,” Moriarty snickered.

“Mycroft is going to cut off each of your fingers, one by one, and I must say, I can’t wait to hear you scream,” Greg hissed. He was so ready for this to be over. If Moriarty was on the run, something was about to happen.

Moriarty’s lips pierced into a straight line while his face twisted into something dark. He lifted his hand about ready to strike Greg across the face, when he heard the sound of a gun being fired from behind him.

“I swear to you Moriarty, next time, I won’t miss,” Mycroft snarled.

Moriarty turned to see Mycroft pointing a gun at him along with Anthea standing beside her boss. Moriarty smiled big, turning his attention fully on her. “I calculated everything and I made sure I was careful. So, very god damn careful. My plan was full proof down to its very core. I even checked my list twice,” He paused for effect, “How in the hell did you find us?” Moriarty sounded more curious and surprised then angry. It was a little unnerving to say the least.

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Anthea muttered.

Moriarty sighed. He spun, grabbing hold of John and bringing him to stand in front of him like a shield; a gun appeared in the psychopath’s hand and was pointed at Mycroft. “But inquiring minds are waiting with anticapation.”

Anthea sighed. She knew Mycroft might fire her over this but right now that didn’t matter. Getting John and Greg back, and stopping Moriarty, was first and foremost the main priority. “I chipped him.”

Mycroft closed his eyes for a moment, realizing now why he felt that knot in his shoulder along with the stinging pain. The chip had activated when Sherlock had shoved him. He took a deep breath, gathering himself before he opened his eyes and refocusing on holding his hand steady. _How could she have done that without asking me?_ But, realizing the fact if she hadn’t then Mycroft would still be locked up with Sherlock while Moriarty continued to torture them. Right here and now, they had the chance to end this because of her.

Moriarty noticed the difference in Mycroft’s body language right away and it made him smile. “You chipped him without his knowledge. Clever little girl you are but that still doesn’t explain why I didn’t find it sense I checked him out myself, turning up nothing.”

“Well, then the jokes on you Jim,” said a raspy baritone voice coming from behind Mycroft.

John’s eyes grew wide in shock and disbelief, thinking the drugs still might be playing mind tricks on him, as he saw a tall man in a Belstaff coat, with dark unruly curls and eyes as dark as the night sky, stepping into view, pointing a gun at Moriarty.

“Ooh darn, the cats out of the bag now,” Moriarty snickered as he felt John’s body weaken under his hold and he let the doctor lean against him, using his body so he wouldn’t slip to the floor.

“Let them go Jim and I promise to make your death quick,” Sherlock hissed as he tried not to look at John. The last thing he needed was the doctor’s heartache expression to distract him from the task at hand.

“And what if I don’t?” Moriarty asked cocking his head to the side.“What will you do then?”

“Everything you have done here will be done to you,” Mycroft snarled.

Moriarty beamed. “Ooh, would you do that Mycroft? Would you jerk me off sense I jerked Gregory off in front of you? If that’s the kind of torture you’re implying, where do I sign?” Moriarty giggled as both Holmes brothers took a half step closer, never waving their guns as they kept them aimed at Moriarty. “Ah, ah, ah boys, I wouldn’t if I were you. Just because you think you have won doesn’t mean you have. Not yet. Daddy always has a trick or two up his sleeve. Don’t I Sebby dear?”

Just then Moran appeared wearing a bomb vest and smiling big seeing the Holmes brother’s eyes flicker with fiery rage.

Sherlock scuffled, “Really Jim? A bomb?”

“Oh, I know its so three years ago but I really do love the classics. Not to mention Daddy always has some kind of backup plan kiddos. Why doesn’t anyone ever understand that? Besides, I like it when they go boom.”

Moran started up the boat, almost readying it to take off.

“Let them go Jim!” Sherlock yelled as he very carefully began to plant his stance so no one would notice and no one else did, expect John. It was an unmistaken move, mainly because that was what Sherlock usually had done before he did something incredibly stupid, like jumping for a moving vehicle or jumping from one roof top to another. _Still an idiot._

“Or what?” Moriarty asked, licking his lips. “It’s not like you can stop this and I have loved this. Playing with – well, I guess he’s mine pet now, isn’t he? Such a good boy.” He giggled remembering the pool when John threw his arms around him and realized sense he had John now from behind he was going to play on that. So, he thrusts his hips forward, pressing himself into John making a small gasp escape the doctor’s lips.

Sherlock’s grip tightened on his gun.

“Fuck, listen to that! He belongs with me Sherlock. You can’t deny that when we both know that to be true. He’d be so much happier too.” Moriarty moved his lips next to John’s ear and cooed, “Wouldn’t you, Pet?” He took John’s earlobe into his mouth and began to nibble, forcing John to whimper and closed his eyes not wanting to look at Sherlock.

It felt amazing and John wanted to be lost in the sensation, to enjoy it, but he didn’t want Sherlock to see how Moriarty figured out what right buttons to push to make him aroused. _You know Jim’s words ring true, right? You would be happier with him, wouldn't you be? I mean, everything_ _Sherlock has done, after what he put you through, can you even trust him? He forced you to watch him fall, to relive that moment each night and for what?_ John opened his eyes and met Sherlock’s gaze for the first moment he revealed himself. So many mixed emotions came crashing down on him that John’s mind felt like it was ready to explode. _Could things even go back to the way they use to be?_

“John, I am sorry. Truly I am. You must know that you mean everything to me and I did it because I had no other choice. There was no other way." Sherlock paused a moment before he added, "I did it because...I care for you, John.”

“Poppy cock! I did not force your hand!”

Sherlock took another half step forward, glaring and Moriarty. “Yes, you did.”

Moriarty then shrugged. “Okay, yeah, maybe I did.”

“I will stop you.”

“No you won’t,” Moriarty sang, chuckling as he did so.

“Shut it!” John shouted, startling everyone. John took a deep breath, finding his voice after Moriarty’s attack on his earlobe. It was unsteady, full of hurt and anguish, but he had to say it. His eyes were locked on to Sherlock’s. “One word, that’s all I needed Sherlock, just one word.” Tears began to run down the doctor’s cheeks as his body began to shake slightly. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold from the lack of a shirt or just the fact of being so overwhelmed and knowing this was the last time he would ever see Sherlock again.

“I’m sorry John. Please, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you,” Sherlock said, his voice now becoming unsteady, his eyes filling with tears.

John closed his eyes. He just wanted to cruel in on himself and disappear, however, he knew that wasn’t going to happen no matter how hard he wished it. So, reopening his eyes he met Sherlock’s concerned blue one’s once more and chocked out, “I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead.”

“I heard you.”

Silence.

“John, I want you to know that I…you are…I lov…”

“Well, this has been fun,” Moriarty sang, cutting off Sherlock, “But, Daddy’s had enough now.” He chuckled. “I think it’s time we moved on.”

Sherlock took half step forward. _Damn it, think! Keep him talking!_ “Why not take me as well Jim? I know you’re still so curious on what makes me tick. You could study me. Whatever you wish to do I will let you.”

Moriarty’s lips curled into a devilish smile. “Oh, Sherly. You just can’t stand the thought of me having him can you? It’s eating away at you and you have no idea what to do. No, I don’t want you. You’re ordinary and boring. John’s on the other hand is a lot more fun but you wouldn’t know about that would you my dear?” The he sang, “But I do.”

Suddenly Moriarty snapped his fingers, the boat began to pull away and Sherlock started to panic. Without warning he jumped for the boat as Moriarty fired. Moran picked up speed with Sherlock hanging onto the side of the boat, the water hitting him like glass. Moriarty pushed John to the floor of the boat, rushing over; he locked eyes with Sherlock’s.

“I told you Sherlock that I was going to burn the heart of you and you just didn’t listen. I told you to die and still you ignored me. Then you began to take down my web which forced me out of my dark little happy hole.” Moriarty made a tsk, tsk tsk, noise as he shook his head. “Poor little Johnny won’t be the same wants I’m done.” Moriarty knelt down and said, “You’re heart belongs to me now. Kind of like under new management and I must confess that I am going to enjoy every inch of him.” He smiled a devilish grin as he stood back up, lifting his foot, he purred, “Chow, Sherlock Holmes.”

“JOHN!” Sherlock yelled as Moriarty stomped onto Sherlock’s hand forcing him to let go, his body disappearing under the icy black water below.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments below because I really do love seeing them. To tell you the truth I was going to end this, making it short then what I really should make it not to mention I was going to end it differently. Your guy's comments is what changed my mind. "If its not broken, don't fix it."  
> This is going really well for me so please let me know what you think. Requests, feedback, and your support is what is making this story a reality. Keep it coming and I promise to do my best to not disappoint. THANK YOU!!!
> 
> THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY MY DEARS! MORE TO COME! I PROMISE!  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting the stage
> 
> "Well, hello. Are you ready for the story?"  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry if this doesn't seem like one of my more powerful chapters but I wanted to set the stage on things to come. This is what this chapter is for. Hope you still enjoy it. I might add more to it a little later on to so just be aware that will happen. ^_^ Enjoy. 
> 
> This youtube video is what I thought of when writing this chapter. 
> 
> "This is war." 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il4uV51N1iM  
> 

  


Sherlock felt disoriented, unaware of what had happened, when suddenly the smell of chlorine filled his nose. _What the hell?_

“Sorry boys! I’m soooo changeable! It is a weakness with me. But to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t. I would try to convince you. Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.”

Sherlock opened his eyes as he looked down at John with pleading eyes to stop this madman. John nodded his go ahead to do what he needed to do to end this. So, as Sherlock turned his said, “Probably my answer has crossed yours.” He aims the gun at Moriarty and then down slowly towards the bomb-laden jacket that lay just before the criminal. Both men stared the other down for a moment and in the moment Moriarty smiled wickedly at him, the realization was there. Sherlock pulled the trigger.

Sherlock’s eyes flew open in panic and terror, his body covered in a cold sweat while his heart felt like it was going to burst through his rib-cage at any moment. His mind felt numb from the dream still echoing through his mind, the bomb taking their lives. But, as he looked around the very dim lit room, Sherlock knew he was far from being dead.

“It’s alright Sherlock. You’re safe.”

Sherlock turned his head to see Mycroft walking towards him from where he had be standing near the window and never in his life was he so thankful to see his brother.

“Where…” Sherlock chocked out, his voice was dry.

Mycroft walked over to the side table and grabbed hold of a glass of water, giving it to Sherlock. “You are in one of the many hospitals designed and made to keep other prying eyes out.”

Sherlock took a sip of the water all the while he looked around the room. It looked like a royal sweet from one of the nicer hotels in London. He handed the glass back to Mycroft as he tried to sit up when suddenly a horrific sharp pain shot through his right shoulder.

“Easy Sherlock,” Mycroft murmured; his tone soft. “You were shot.”

Sherlock looked down at the bandages on his shoulder and for the moment he was lost on the fact of how it happened. He looked at Mycroft with a questioning look and in return Mycroft looked back at him, his brow furrowed, realizing Sherlock’s brain wasn’t up to pair where it normally should be. Probably do to shock and the pain medication in his system.

“You were trying to stop Moriarty by taking a daring leap for his boat. He fired his gun and it seems it hit you in the shoulder.” Mycroft explained, hoping that was enough.

Sherlock’s brain slowly began waking up its operating system like a computer would from hibernating. And, all at once, everything came flooding back to him. _Moriarty had them all, trapped, with no hope to be rescued or to escape. But, Anthea managed to find them. She had chipped Mycroft but it wasn’t enough. Moriarty has John and Graham. No, delete…Greg._

“Sherlock,” Mycroft began, pulling Sherlock out of his mind palace. “It’s alright Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked up at his brother and the look on the elder Holmes face was so sincere that Sherlock turned his gaze away. “How long?” Sherlock asked knowing his brother would understand.

“You’ve been out for quite some time. With the shock, the falling into the water, and the bullet wound, I’m surprised you’re awake now.”

“Damn it Mycroft, how long?”

“72 hours.”

Sherlock frowned. He had been out for a full three days. Sherlock couldn’t believe it and cursed himself for not waking sooner. John life was at stake. John. _Oh, god John. I’m so sorry._ Then, Sherlock’s mind drifted to the nightmare that had forced him awake. If he had just shot the bomb, none of this would have happened. John wouldn’t be in the hands of that madman. He would be with him, he just knew it. But, right now he wasn’t and Sherlock had to figure out a way to get them back, however, it seemed grim. It was Moriarty they were dealing with after all. Sherlock turned his attention to Mycroft then and asked, “Have you heard anything from Moriarty?”

Mycroft shook his head. “Not as of yet brother dear.”

“Do you think we will?” The question was asked from the doorway. Both Holmes brothers turned to see Molly standing there, her head a little hung with a sad smile on her face.

“Come in Molly,” Mycroft engorged.

Molly slowly made her way over to the side of Sherlock’s bed. Without hesitation she reached out and took Sherlock’s left hand in her own. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

Sherlock’s face softened. “Glad to see you’re safe.”

There was a moment of silence until Molly asked once more, “Do you think we will hear from him?”

“Moriarty is a creature of habit my dear,” Mycroft began, his voice a little flat when speaking of the criminal. “He likes to taunt us, so yes, to answer your question.”

She looked at Sherlock and he nodded in agreement.

“I am glad you are here and safe,” Sherlock said softly.

“I call it more caged to be completely honest,” Irene said as she stormed into the room her gaze fixed on Mycroft. She walked up to the elder Holmes, invading his space and hissed, “Where is it Mycroft?”

Mycroft raised an eye brow at her. “Why, whatever do you mean Ms. Alder?”

“Oh, don't give me that crap. I know you took my phone. No one else would have. You’re the only one who knows what would be captured on it. I want it back…Now!”

Molly turned to Irene then, narrowing her eyes at the dominatrix. “Sherlock is fine by the way. Not like you care since he saved your life and all that. Why he did is a mystery even to me.”

Everyone froze for a moment, their gaze landing on Molly. Hearing that come from a woman that seems so timid and soft spoken was very odd for her and out of character. Well, from their stand point it was out of character for her.

Sherlock squeezed her hand slightly making Molly turned towards him. _“The one that seems the most innocent of all is truly the most dangerous and unpredictable.”_

Molly’s eyes widen. “Moriarty said that to me. How did you…”

“He had us caged in the basement and watching on a telly everything that he was doing in that room,” Sherlock said abruptly.

Silence.

The realization did not go unnoticed to Sherlock as he watched their faces. Yes he was forced to watch John being tortured and right now he hoped they wouldn't bring it up.

“So, wait a minute. If you were locked up then how did we get free?” Irene asked; her attention shifting towards Sherlock.

“Anthea, it seems, had chipped Mycroft sometime ago without his knowledge, however, he and I had a tiff a short time back and I might have damaged it. Well, when we were caged together it seems I got it working again and that is how she found us.”

“So, it was Anthea who saved us? Good to know,” Sally huffed as she and Anderson walked into the room.

Sherlock groaned. “Why is everyone coming in here?”

“Oh, Sherlock. So, glad you are alright dear,” Mrs. Hudson said bringing in a trolley with tea and biscuits on it.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft and Mycroft raised an eye brow at him, a silent thank you and your welcome exchanged between them.

Everyone moved away from Sherlock’s bed to make themselves a cup of tea. Mrs. Hudson made one for Sherlock and handed it to him, then turned back to the others.

Sherlock looked around the room at everyone. None of them surprised he was alive and none of them angry with him for what had unfolded. It unnerved Sherlock a bit and he was a little unsure on why. They were all there because of him and they all were almost tortured and even some were because of him. All this was because of him. _It’s my fault._ Suddenly, Sherlock threw his cup against the wall, making everyone jump at the sound of it shattering. They turned towards him and remained silent. Sherlock turned his attention to them. “I’m sorry,” Is all he said.

Mycroft moved back over to the right side of his bed. “It's alright brother dear.”

“No, it bloody hell is not alright Mycroft. This is my fault. All of it is my _fault_!” Sherlock shouted the last word as he hit his bed with this left hand. “I did this. Playing his games because I was bored, thinking it would be bemusing to me. But, look where it’s gotten us and it’s entirely my fault. I can’t do this. I can’t…” Sherlock didn’t want to say it. That he had failed his John. That he had failed them all.

No one spoke for several minutes because they were unsure of what to say. This wasn’t really their area so they let the silence weigh over like a cloud above them.

Finally, Molly walked back to the side of his bed, a sad smile on her face. “You will get them back.”

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to believe her but how could he? It seemed impossible without anything to go on. Moriarty would not make a mistake a second time with having John and Greg captive. “It doesn’t seem that simple this time. More like impossible.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson fussed. “You’ve done the impossible.”

“Yeah, like knowing more then you should by looking at someone’s clothing and knowing where they have been,” Anderson said.

“Or, by what colon their wearing,” Sally added.

Sherlock tried not to look a little puzzled with the two speaking up, not to mention Sally did not add _Freak_ on the end of her sentence. Instead he rolled his eyes as he huffed, “But, this is Moriarty we are talking about. He is always a step ahead of me and always has a backup plan.”

“So, do I,” Irene said, turning her attention back towards Mycroft. “My phone Mycroft.”

“Very well. I will get it for you when I have a moment but until then…” he let his voice drift off when he saw Anthea standing in the doorway, a very grave expression on her face. “What is it my dear?”

“Sir, I…this was just found on the front gate.” She held up a dvd as she walked into the room.

“What is it?” Mycroft asked but already had a good induction of what it was, while a horrible feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach.

“It says, “Watch me,” on it sir,” Anthea said as she looked from Mycroft to Sherlock.

The Holmes brothers shared a glance then nodded to her to put it into the dvd player.

Everyone turned their attention to the telly, both curious and nerves with what was on it.

The screen was black for a moment and then there was a low gasp from a few in the room when Moriarty’s face came onto the screen.

“Well, hello. Are you ready for the story?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the screen. He knew those words from the cab he had been in with Moriarty driving it. _Focus._

"Once upon a time there was a beautiful kingdom. The king was a proud man and a very good looking man too. Well, one day his two sons came to him asking which one of the two would be taking over the kingdom after he was gone. The king, who was so much smarter than his two sons, told them that they had to prove themselves worthy. They asked what they had to do in order to become worthy in his eyes but the king told them that they must learn that on their own.

“Well time slowly went by when both sons returned with stories of their adventurers and their father, the king, was so proud of them. They asked once more who would be taking over the kingdom when he was gone and he told them that neither would ever be worthy enough sense they had learned nothing.

“Outraged they tried to teach their father, the king, a lesson. So, they were going to have him killed and both sons would rule over the kingdom together. Well, try as they may, it had failed and their father, the king, sentenced them to die and he kept their treasures for himself. The end. Well, that was a nice story, wasn’t it kiddies? Now, goes to the victor, the spoils of war.”

The screen went black for a moment and then when the screen returned, it was focused on Greg who was strapped down onto a metal table, only wearing pants and a black leather diamond studded collar. He had bruises all over this body and looked a little worse for wear.

Moriarty slowly walked into view and pointed towards the camera. “Say hello to your lover kitten.”

Greg glared at Moriarty. “Piss off,” he spat.

Moriarty sighed as he lifted a hammer into view and raced it down towards Greg’s forearm, forcing the Inspector to wail. Mycroft took a step towards the telly, his hands tighten into fists. “Once again kitten, say hello to your lover.”

Greg turned his head towards the camera. Tears were running down his cheeks as he chocked out, “Hello, My…”

Moriarty hit his forearm a second time forcing another scream out of the Inspector’s mouth. “Not like that kitten. You did say you loved him after all.”

Greg’s eyes were squeezed shut. He took a few deep breaths before he once again looked at the camera, trying to keep his composer as best he could. “Hello my love. I miss you.”

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty purred. He set the hammer down on the side of the table and then moved his hand over Greg’s chest. “Now, it’s time to continue our game, don’t you think? It’s only right after all and since I don’t have dear sweet little Molly I guess you will be getting both tortures.”

Molly’s eyes widen with terror as her hand covered her mouth, hating that Greg and John had to suffer for something that would have been her turn to take. If she had the choice given to her, she would have taken the torture herself.

Moriarty turned and began to walk away from Greg, the camera slowly following as he did so. John now appeared on the screen, tied to a chair, and he too was wearing only pants and along with a black leather diamond studded collar. There were bruises all over him just like Greg but one over his eye that looked like the color was fading more than the others on his body.

Sherlock deduced that he had gotten the bruise on his eye three days ago and wondered what John had done to reserve it. He could only imagine the possibilities. John also had a new cut on his chest and he was leaning to far forward in his chair. Sherlock felt only the worst of what was on his John's back. _Moriarty will pay._ Sherlock was afraid because it had seemed they had gone through so much already and Sherlock knew the madman was far from over with torturing them. Sherlock sat up straighter, despite the pain in his shoulder, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“Hello, my love,” Moriarty cooed, kneeling down in front of him. He ran a hand over John’s knee making John jump from the contact. “Oh, baby, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.”

Sherlock wanted to through something at the telly and was thankful for once nothing was within arm’s reach. _I’m going to kill him._

“Johnny boy, I need you to choose pet. Will it be the little medical bag or the water?”

John’s head was hung low and his eyes closed tight. He looked a little more broken then Greg, Sherlock noted, and that was a bit not good.

“I will choose for you if you don’t my love and if I do it will be ten times worse for him,” Moriarty said with a smile in his voice.

John looked up slowly and mumbled something under his breath that only Moriarty could hear.

“Ah, yes, good choice my love,” Moriarty stood and walked back over to Greg. “Well, kitten, it seems Johnny boy choose the water. Do you know what water is used for when a captor uses it to torture ones victims?”

Greg looked like he was fighting against answering Moriarty and it horrified Mycroft because he had a feeling if the Inspector did not answer him, Moriarty would get annoyed enough to use the hammer again. Finally Greg said, “Chinese water torture.”

“Good. Very good kitten. Clever little Inspector you are. Now, do you want to receive the torture or do you want Johnny boy too and I promise if you want the torture this time then you will get it. I will not trick you this time, alright?”

Mycroft thought, _Oh, god!_

“Me,” Greg said without any hesitation in his voice.

Moriarty chuckled. “I had a feeling you would. Now, I believe it’s about time that Sebby paid you back for that little mishap, yes?”

The camera remained still, most likely sitting on a tripod, Sherlock noted. However, when they saw Moran step into the view of the camera, none of them were expecting to see what they were staring blanking at. Moran was limping a little and bruised just as bad as John and Greg were.

A moment of pride swelled up in both Holmes chests seeing Moriarty’s own lap dog in the same state as the other two men. It even made them feel a little better knowing they still had a lot of fight left in them, that they weren’t taking this laying down knowing that the Holmes brothers would do anything within their power to get them back home.

Moran laid a towel over Greg’s face and Greg began to shake his head from side to side, trying to get the towel off. But, Moran made sure it would tie around the back of his head to make sure it wouldn’t go anywhere. Moran proceeded to bend down and pick up a melt bucket, pouring it over Greg’s covered face. Greg thrashed, holding back his cries of dread.

Moriarty walked around the table and came to stand in front of the camera, and a wild smile on his face. “It’s been a rough few days but as you can see I’m slowly breaking them in. I do hope it will be a low slow process though. It’s so much better when they are still clinging to that little shred of hope that you will be coming to their rescue.” Moriarty let out a crazed laugh that set chills through them. “Well, I guess that’s it for this episode for Daddy Moriarty’s Grim Tales. Tune in next time to see what is in store. I’m sure it will be a real scream.” Moriarty paused for a moment and lifted something into view. Sherlock’s heart felt like it was about to stop as he saw an apple in the madman’s hand. He turned it just right as the camera could see I.O.U on the side of the apple and he let out a chuckle as he purred, “Chow.” He took a bite out of the apple and the screen went black.

No, one moved nor spoke, all eyes still locked onto the black screen hoping for something more, anything more but the dvd player shut itself off. Then slowly all eyes turned to the Holmes brothers, scared and unsure faces on what to do now.

“Everyone out,” Mycroft said, his voice steady.

No one moved. They all were frozen in place but turned towards Mycroft to protest if something was to be said about what to do next, they all wanted to be in the room.

“Out!” Mycroft barked.

That extra incentive was all they needed to start heading towards the door without another moment of hesitation.

Irene walked over to Mycroft again and said, “My phone Mycroft…now.” 

Mycroft turned his attention to Anthea and asked flatly, “Anthea please retrieve Miss Alder’s phone for her please.”

“Thank you,” Irene said as she turned and followed Anthea out the door.

Mrs. Hudson turned towards Sherlock and leaned over giving him a hug. “If you need anything dear, I will be in the other room.”

“Can you get me a cigarette?” Sherlock asked timidly, knowing John would disapprove but god he needed it. Mrs. Hudson’s smile was gentle and she padded his cheek lightly.

“Alright, dear but just this once though, after all, I’m still not your housekeeper.”

Sherlock smiled softly at her and watched as they all disappeared out of the room.

When the room was silent Sherlock turned his attention towards Mycroft who was still staring at the black screen of the telly.

“What do we do Sherlock?” Mycroft asked; his voice unsteady.

“Well, I need to watch the dvd again, obviously. I am sure there is something I didn’t notice the first time that will help indicate where they are. There has to something he hadn’t thought of to hide from my sights that I could use to help us.”

Mycroft closed his eyes tightly shut, reliving the memory of seeing Greg’s body thrash with horror. “What if you can’t?”

“What if I can’t what?” Sherlock asked trying to keep his voice even.

Mycroft turned towards Sherlock then, their eyes locked. “Damn it Sherlock, we weren’t supposed to come out of that. If it wasn’t for Anthea we would still be in that damn cage in that horrible basement, watching as that monster violated our…” Mycroft paused a moment, taking a deep breath, lost on the fact of what to do and hating that he was still so damn helpless. “For the first time in my life I feel lost of what to do next and I must say that I do not like it.”

Sherlock felt his brother's fear because he too was afraid for his John. However, he did not want to show weakness if he could find something, anything on the dvd to help them. “Caring might not be an advantage but it can be one hell of a motivator brother mine. We just need to put these feelings towards a different use. I’m sure we will be able to come up with something.” Sherlock wasn’t sure he believed his own words but damn it they couldn’t give up. Not, now. Not after what they saw on the screen. John was breaking, slowly but some of the old John was still there. Sherlock could see it. _Hold on John. My John. I'm coming for you my love. Please, just hold on._

They turned the dvd back on in order to find anything that would indicate on where John and Greg were being held. It was their only lead for now because if they wasted anymore time there was no telling what Moriarty would do to them in the next dvd that would come and they both knew there would be another one. Moriarty might be a psychopath but he was also a genius and just like any genius they needed an audience. All they could hope for was that the criminal would slip up and when he did they would be right there to kill the king.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all comments are still welcomed. Again I am sorry for this being so sort and I will try to go back to fix it some. 
> 
> However the next few chapters will be back up to wear the should be and the torture of John and Greg to come. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you again.  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Days Ago.
> 
> “Wounds heal with time. That one is no different from the others,” John murmured.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took me so long to get up. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.  
> 

  


_John answered his phone and began to panic. “What happened? Is she okay?” He paused a moment. “Oh, my God. Right, yes, I’m coming.” John turned his phone off and looked at Sherlock with panic plaster all over his face._  
 _“What is it?” Sherlock asked him._  
 _“Paramedics. Mrs. Hudson – she’s been shot.”_  
 _“What? How?”_  
 _John was pacing frantically, scared for their friend’s life. “Well, probably one of the killers you attract…Jesus. Jesus. She’s dying, Sherlock. Let’s go.” John said as he began to head for the door._  
 _Sherlock’s tone made him sound disinterested and bored. “You go. I’m busy.”_  
 _John spins back towards his flatemate, his face appalled. “Busy?”_  
 _“Thinking. I need to think.”_  
 _“You need to….? Doesn’t she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her.”_  
 _Sherlock just shrugs. “She’s my landlady.”_  
 _“She’s dying,” John had said furiously with anguish. When Sherlock didn’t say a word nor look up at his blogger, his friend, John hissed, “You machine.” He looked down, shaking his head. “Sod this. Sod this,” he said heading for the door. “You stay here if you want, on your own._  
 _“Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.”_  
 _John opened the door and looked back at him angrily. “No. Friends protect people.” He turned and walked out the door._

_The next moment John was looking up at Sherlock who was on the top of Bart’s looking down at him._  
 _“Keep your eyes fixed on me,” Sherlock spoke, his voice frantic. “Please, will you do this for me?”_  
 _“Do what?”_  
 _“This phone call – it’s, er…it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?”_  
 _John shakes his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he’s beginning to understand hits him, then he raises it again, his voice shaky. “Leave a note when?”_  
 _“Goodbye, John.”_  
 _John shook his head. “No. Don’t.”_  
 _John could see his friend gazing down at him for several seconds before the line went dead. John lowers his own phone and screams upwards, “No. SHERLOCK!”He watches in horror as Sherlock spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. “Sher…” And within seconds the body impacts the ground..._  


This is usually when John awoke from this nightmare but it seemed his dreams had other plans this time. 

_“Shut it!” He had shouted over the two bickering geniuses. John had taken a deep breath, finding his voice after Moriarty’s attack on his earlobe. It had been unsteady, full of hurt and anguish, but he had to say it. His eyes were locked on to Sherlock’s. “One word, that’s all I needed Sherlock, just one word.” Tears began to run down his cheeks as his body began to shake slightly._  
 _“I’m sorry John. Please, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you,” Sherlock voice had been unsteady, his eyes filled with tears._  
 _John closed his eyes. He just wanted to crowl in on himself then and disappear but he couldn’t. So, reopening his eyes, he met Sherlock’s concerned blue one’s once more and chocked out, “I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead.”_  
 _“I heard you.”_  
 _Silence._  
 _“John, I want you to know that I…you are…I lov…”_  
 _But, before Sherlock could finish whatever he was about to confess to him, Moriarty took it all away. John saw panic in the consulting detective’s eyes and knew what he was about to do. Sherlock had leapt for the boat and horror struck through John at the sound of Moriarty’s gun going off. John was now pushed to the floor of the boat and saw Sherlock hanging off the side, not letting go like his life depended on this._  
 _“JOHN!” Was the last thing John remembers hearing because all seemed to go black after that._  


“Sherlock…” is all John could breathe. John began to hear his name being called but it sounded so far away, like it was a muffled cry. Curiosity getting the better of him, he started to move towards the voice and finally recognized it as Greg calling out to him through a dreamed state. It took John several times to try and open his eyes and only realized after those few tries that he could open one. The other eye felt like it was swollen shut. What the hell happened? When he did manage to be able to focus, he looked up at Greg, who was looking down at him with sad eyes. 

“You okay mate?” Greg asked; his tone soft.

“I am now,” John replied. He was thankful he awoke to find only Greg in the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Five hours. Give or take,” Greg muttered.

“Wow, really? Why so…” John began to ask as he tried to sit up but became aware of why he had been laying down. He felt dizzy and a little nauseated from trying to sit up so quickly.

Greg was at his side in a heartbeat. “Whoa, John. Take it easy mate.”

“What happened?” John asked shutting his eye again as he laid back down. _Wait. Was he on a bed?_

“It seemed when Moriarty made Sherlock let go of the boat you were a little more than a handful for the two criminals. Moriarty had to sedate you.”

John grinned but then he frowned. “What happened to my eye?”

“Oh, before Moriarty drugged you, you began to kick which connected with the redhead’s knee. He was pissed and punched you in the face but that didn’t seem to slow you down so Moriarty drugged you.”

John’s grinned returned happy that he had kind of injured one of them. “Good.”

It did in fact feel good to John to know he had hurt one of the two criminals but the whole thing still seemed too surreal. How did Sherlock survive the fall? Why did he have to hide the fact he was still alive? It seemed unfair even though Sherlock said it was to protect him. _Just one word._ He let out a deep sigh as his mind shifted to focus on the one other question he was still trying to wrap his head around. How in the hell did Moriarty survive a bullet to brain? Back at the warehouse John was just as surprised to see the spider but he hadn’t shown his curiosity then. Now, he still wanted to know and wondered if Sherlock did. _Of, course he would. It’s Sherlock._

John rubbed his hands over this face as all the new memories were now replaying over and over again in his mind. Sherlock and Moriarty conversing like nothing had ever happened. John screaming at them to shut the hell up and then Sherlock leaping for the boat with the sound of a gun going off. Did Sherlock get shot? John watched helplessly from the floor of the boat as Moriarty walked over and forced Sherlock to let go but not before hearing his own name being screamed from Sherlock’s panicked tone. Just like John had screamed his name when Sherlock took that step off of Bart’s, watching as his love fell to his death. John had to end this. 

“Greg I…” 

Suddenly the door opened and in walked Moriarty with Moran following close behind who was limping slightly. If you weren’t looking for it you wouldn’t have noticed the henchman at all but both of them noticed and smiled to themselves.

“I wouldn’t be celebrating to soon boys,” Moriarty cooed as he walked to the end of the bed. “The fun hasn’t even begun yet.”

A chill shot through John at the sound of the Irish voice. _God, why?_ “Why don’t you go back to your little dark happy hole and leave us the fuck alone!” John sneered as he sat up, propping his back against the headboard. Greg sat next to him in almost the same fashion. John crossed his arms over his chest only realizing now that they both were only wearing boxers. He wanted to make an irrigated sound but he kept his face like a stoned statue not waiting to give any ammo to this lunatic before them.

“Oh, Johnny, I just love it when you act all tough. It’s going to make breaking you that much more exciting.”

John narrowed his eyes. “You already tired that and failed.”

Moriarty laughed. “Failed? Oh, Johnny you were unraveling under my touch pet. You were purring like a kitten and you were about to beg me to fuck you.”

John could feel Greg’s eyes on him but he ignored the Inspector for the moment. “No, I wasn’t.”

Moriarty narrowed his eyes. “Lair, lair, pants on fire. You know I hate lairs Johnny.” Moriarty reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a box of matches. He took one out and strikes it against the side of the box. “Do you think the phrase comes from people being caught on fire when they lie?” Moriarty asked thoughtfully before he threw the match onto the end of the bed and it was in golfed in flames instantly. Greg and John leapt from the bed and pulled the cover off folding it over on itself to put out the flame.

Once it was out John looked at Moriarty and barked, “Are you mad?”

Moriarty shrugged and giggled. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Mad? He’s bloody insane!” Greg scuffled, running his hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Christ.”

Moriarty tilted his head to the side as he asked, “Well, how else was I supposed to get your attention?” 

“You could have just said what you wanted to say you bloody lunatic!” John shouted. 

A smile pulled at a corner at the madman’s lips. “Where’s the fun in that? By the way, did anyone ever tell you that you’re sexy when you’re angry?” 

John pinched the brim of his nose as he closed his eyes. “What the hell do you want…Jim?”

Moriarty smiled wickedly. “Ooh, Johnny boy. I love it when you say my name. Although, I would love it if you to do it the way you did back in that little room when I was stroking your cock.” Moriarty walked over to John, their bodies leaving about an inch of space in between them. “You were so damn sexy.” Moriarty reached out, running his hand across John’s chest. 

John did not move. He stood with his back straight, chest out and eyes forward just like the good little soldier he was. _Just hold on. Sherlock is coming for you. Do what you must in order to survive._

“Such the good little soldier Johnny boy. My little soldier boy,” Moriarty purred as his hand reached up behind John’s head and pulled him into a kiss. John tried to pull back but Moriarty wrapped his other hand around the doctor’s waist and closed what little gap that was left between them. Moriarty hummed low in his throat as his tongue forced its way inside John’s mouth. 

John still was trying to pull back but he wasn’t really trying. _Fight him!_ The voice that sounded Sherlock’s said. But, something else was keeping him from doing so. Realizing how it affected him in that room, when Moriarty was promising him the world, John actually was considering it. He would have had purpose again. Something to look forward to when he woke up in the morning other than going to Bart’s and deciding to jump off. One time he did come close but Mycroft had stopped him. Now, he understood why. 

Slowly Moriarty pulled back smiling like a school boy at his crush. “Mmmm, you are such an amazing kisser Johnny boy.” He let out a little chuckle and then frowned at the bruise on John’s face. “Ooh, pet. I am sorry about your beautiful face.”

“Wounds heal with time. That one is no different from the others,” John murmured. 

There was a slight twitch in Moriarty’s face and for a second John thought he had shocked the madman with his words. Moriarty smiled softly and nodded, seeming pleased with his response. The criminal turned and walked back over by the door. “I think...I think it is time we have a nice sit down dinner, don’t you?”

John and Greg shared a weary glance that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, come on boys. You’ll be here for quite some time. It’s only logical we get to know one another.”

John snorted. “You already know more about us then we care to admit...Ji...Mr. Moriarty.” 

“True and call me Jim, Johnny,” Moriarty said, a smile spreading across his face. “However, I might _know_ so much about different things in your lives but that doesn’t help me to get to know you personally. Well, that could change boys. All Daddy is asking for is a chance.” 

John didn’t want to drag this out. He just wanted to be left alone with Greg to figure out a plan of attraction. “Fine but do we at least get to wear something?”John asked ignoring Greg’s angry glare for agreeing to the demands of a madman.

“Oh, yes. I almost forgot. Sebby dear, can you get them for me please?”

“Get what?” Greg scuffled hoping it wasn’t anything to demeaning.

Moran walked over to the door and knocked on it. Something was passed through and quickly shut before either man could take a step in hopes to get out of here. When Moran turned he held up what Moriarty wanted them to wear. Both, Greg’s and John’s eyes widen in stunned silence. In Moran’s hands were two black leather diamond studded collars.

“Since you both technically belong to me now, I thought it was only right if I gave you something that showed ownership.”

“To hell with that,” Greg snapped.

Moriarty’s bottom lip curled into a pout. “But, they cost close to 8,000 pounds.” Their mouth dropped open and Moriarty just snickers. “My boys only deserve the best after all.”

“We are not your property. We do not belong to you!” John hissed.

“Ooh, but you do. You just don’t see it yet,” Moriarty said grinning wickedly.

Moran threw the collars onto the bed and stayed at his place by the door.

“Now, be good boys for Daddy and put those on before we have dinner. If they are not around your necks then you both will be punished and they will be locked on. Either way, they are going on.”Moriarty turned and headed for the door. John took a step towards him but Moran shook his head forcing John to freeze. Moriarty turned back and said, “You have about 10 minutes. Don’t disappoint me.”

Moran knocked on the door and when it opened, Moriarty and Moran stepped through. When it was closed Greg began to pace while John’s gaze went from the door to the collars that lay on top of the bed.

“This is ridiculous and humiliating. There is no way I’m wearing that thing,” Greg grumbled. He wasn’t going to be treated like a goddamn pet. Damn it, he was a cop and a bloody good one at that. I mean, he was the head of the police of New Scottland Yard for Christ sakes. So, fuck Moriarty and his 8,000 pound diamond studded collars.

“Greg,” John began as he turned towards him, “If we don’t put them on he will punish us.”

“Let him!” Greg hissed.

John sighed as he walked over and picked up one of the collars. He studied it for a moment and noticed that there were six diamonds on it that were the size of his pinky nail. Shaking his head, he turned and proceeded to walk over to Greg. He opened the collar and reached out to place it around Greg’s neck. Greg jumped back swatting at John’s hands.

“What the hell John?”

“He burned me with a cigar; he drugged me, and then used a cattle prod on me while you watched. There is no way in hell I’m going to be tortured again because you do not want to put on the bloody collar.”

Greg opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. There was nothing he could argue that would convince otherwise on the matter. With a heavy sigh, Greg lifted his chin so John could fit the collar around his neck and fastened it in place. John walked back over and picked up the other collar handing it to Greg. Greg opened it up and slipped it around John’s neck and fastened it just like John had done to him.

“This is stupid,” Greg grumbled.

“I know it is but this is Moriarty we are dealing with. If we do not play by his rules, then one of us, if not both, will be tortured again. I really do not want that.”

“But, we just can’t idle by and wait until something happens. We need to have plan of action John.”

“I know. I’m working on it but in the mean time…”

Suddenly the door opened and both men turned to be greeted by a smiling Moran. He held a gun in his hand and kept it trained on them for good measure, no doubt. “Glad to see you choose wisely. Although, I wouldn’t have minded giving you your punishments, after all, the boss just loves to watch me work.”

Neither man could hide the shuttered that passed through them.

Moran chuckled. “Right this way boys. Let’s not keep your master waiting.”

Moran backed out of the room and watched as both men came walking out of the room. There were four other really big men with automatic rifles in each of their hands. They all walked in silence as two of the big henchmen walked in front of them while the other two walked behind them and Moran.

When they came to the end of the hall, the two big men in front opened a door and stepped through. Moran ushered them through and what they saw took their breath away. The room was huge. It was carpeted with a burgundy color with curtains that covered the windows to match. The walls were of a dark wood and a chandelier hung over a long dark oak table that was centered in the middle of the room. Moriarty was sitting at the head of the table with a fireplace blazing behind him. He was dressed in the dark blue Westwood suit that the bastard had worn at the pool. He looked like a king.

He lifted his wine glass and cooed, “Ah, my precious little pets, you’re just in time for the first course. Please come and take a seat. Johnny boy if you do not mind I would like you on my right and Gregory on my left.”

Both men hesitated, giving a glare to Moriarty.

Moriarty chuckled as he took a sip of his wine before placing it back down on the table. “Do not make me repeat myself.” Moriarty warned; his voice low and menacing sounding.

John looked over at Greg and gave him a nod before he walked over to sit on Moriarty’s right. Greg closed his eyes, his hands clenched into fists not waiting to move. He was angry and hated to be forced into following orders. He had gotten enough of that from Mycroft. With a sigh he opened his eyes and walked over to sit Moriarty’s left.

The cook brought in a trolley with a giant bowl of salad and three bowls. He placed them in front of each of them and severed them without speaking a word. When he was finished he retreated out of the room closing the door behind him.

Greg watched the man and knowing fear when he saw it. He turned to Moriarty and asked, “Does everyone that works for you scared to death of you?”

Moriarty leaned forward placing an elbow on the table and his chin came to rest on the palm of his hand as he smirked, “You tell me kitten.”

Greg slammed a fist down onto the table. “Stop calling me that.”

Moriarty looked amused. Leaning back he said, “What? Would you prefer the Iceman’s fucking toy? Interpret as you will kitten.”

Greg stood. Pushing the chair out from under him, he began to lash out towards Moriarty but before he could reach the smug bastered there were arms around him to keep him from getting to the madman. Greg refocused his anger now and tried to fight to free himself but the grip became iron tight.

John started to stand but Moriarty held up a hand to warn him to remain seated. What John hated the most was he obeyed. He sat back down and watched at Moran’s grip was squeezing so tightly that Greg almost looked like he was about to pass out.

“Release him,” Moriarty finally said with a light flick of his hand.

Without hesitation Moran released Greg and watched as the Inspector crumbled to the floor.

Greg was trying his best to catch his breath because it had felt like all the air had been squeezed out of him. He turned his head and looked at Moran, who was smiling down at him and licking his lips. Greg turned his gaze away and shuddered when he heard Moriarty’s voice break through to his mind.

“Okay, kitten. You had your little tantrum. Now, sit back in your chair and finish your salad before the main course,” Moriarty said as a smile crept across his features.

Greg did as he was told. He slowly stood to his feet and sat back in the chair.

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty purred.

Greg looked across the table at John and wondered what they should do. John shook his head slightly and when Moriarty cleared his throat, both men went back to eating their salads.

The silent conversation did not go unnoticed to Moriarty. However, he didn’t want to address it just yet. There is more than enough time to break his new pet’s in. “I do love the looks of your collars boys. They’re very sexy.”

Greg couldn’t help by role his eyes.

John snorted as he took a bite of his salad.

“What you don’t like them? Really? Maybe I should get you some shock collars instead. Ooh, that could be fun.”

Both men looked up at Moriarty horrified.

“So, I guess you like them then?” Moriarty mused, grinning like a lion at his prey.

Both men nodded and said in unison, “Yes.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Only the best for my boys after all,” Moriarty said as he lifted his wine glass back to his lips. “Now, who’s up for prime rib?”

As if in cue, the door opened and in walked the cook once again with a trolley. He placed a piece of prime rib with garlic potatoes and freshly cut green beans on each of their plates. When Moriarty was satisfied with how it tasted he set the cook on his way. Just as quick as the cook entered the room he left just as quickly without speaking a word. In some form in was eerie because it showed how much a person feared this man sitting before them and yes they were afraid. But, they would be damned to show that fear to give the lunatic the satisfaction.

Moriarty picked up a steak knife in each hand and looked between the two of them. His face was dark, twisted into something fierce. When he spoke his voice was harsh and venomous. “If you try anything with these other than using them for their intended purpose, I will have no choice but to cut off a finger. Now, if you don’t want that to happen I suggest you heed my warning because that’s all you’re getting.” He reached out each knife and both men slowly reached out and took the knife from him. “That’s my good boys,” Moriarty cooed as a smile broke back out across his lips.

John began to cut into his meat and looked up to see Greg following his lead. They knew what they wanted to do. Both were doers. They had the instinct of fight or flight and right now they both wanted to rip that smug smile off out Moriarty’s face. But, they knew they were also out numbered. Not to mention with Moriarty’s own lap dog nearby if they made any sudden movements one of them was liable to get hurt. Neither one wanted that. So, here they were having dinner with the most dangerous man in London, in their pants and black leather diamond studded collars that said dangerous man spent 8,000 pounds on. Yeah, it was insane.

“So, tell me kitten, how is the Iceman these days? What’s he like in bed?”

Greg’s grip tightened on his knife, frowning that he was the focus of Moriarty’s attention at the moment. “I’m not discussing with what I do in the bedroom with you.”

Moriarty smirked. He cut into his steak and before he place it into his mouth he said, “Well, I just want to make sure I can repeat what he does to make you feel good or if possible, do it better.” He placed the piece of meat into his mouth and looked up to see Greg’s eyes widen with horror as his mouth dropped open. “Mmmm, I would like to try out that mouth too.”

Greg quickly closed his mouth, his cheeks burned from embarrassment and anger. “Piss off,” Greg finally hissed.

Moriarty chuckled and then turned his attention to John. “So, Johnny boy, about what happened back at that room in the warehouse, I had you so damn close didn’t I? You were about to beg me to fuck you, weren’t you pet? Come, don’t be shy.”

John drew in a breath as he just kept cutting into his steak. He didn’t want to look at either of them.

“Johnny boy,” Moriarty sang, “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

John’s eyes closed shut. God, why was he feeling like this? Moriarty had gotten under his skin back at the warehouse because he thought that Sherlock was dead. He had no hope of being freed so he did in fact give into the madman. But, now he knew Sherlock was alive and he and Mycroft were going to do everything in their power to come for them. Why did that thought bother him?

Moriarty stood and walked around to stand behind John. He reached out and ran a finger along John’s spine.

John didn’t move. He just kept his eyes tightly closed as he tried to focus his mind elsewhere but Moriarty wasn’t having any of it.

“No one is coming, all hope is gone, come on and tell me Johnny. Say you want Daddy to fuck you.”

John shuddered. Was that true? Was all hope now gone? _No, don’t think like that. Sherlock would come. He always comes. Doesn’t he?_ But, right now they were at the mercy of a crazed psychopath. John didn't want to play the madman's games but what choice did he have? He thought of the cattle prod against his scar and how much pain that caused. He didn't want that but then he thought back to how Moriarty had sucked on scar and god that felt incredible. However, John still was in love with Sherlock and knowing he was alive he couldn't give up hope. Not now. Not this soon. "No," came John's hushed response.

Moriarty gripped John's shoulders then and pulled him back against the back of the chair. John began to struggle but to the doctor's surprise Moriarty was a lot stronger than he looked. As the madman held him in place, Moriarty snapped his fingers which made Moran instantly appear. Moran quickly began to wrap a rope around John's chest, tying him securely to the chair.

Once John was secured, Moriarty turned attention on Greg. A predatory grin slowly stretched across his face.

Greg gripped his knife but instantly remembering Moriarty’s warning about cutting off fingers he laid it down on the table. But, that wasn’t going to stop this, whatever was about to happen. For the first time in his life Greg truly was terrified. His focus went from Moriarty’s to Moran who was rushing around the table now and heading straight for him. However, Greg pushed back his chair and began to jump over the table. Fear was the perfect motivator.

Moran was slightly stunned to see the Inspector move like he was and was also fascinated that he had so much fight left. He really wanted to be the one to break him.

When Greg landed on the floor on the opposite side, he was greeted but a grinning madman.

“Where are we off to in such a hurry kitten?”

Greg smiled big knowing there wasn’t enough time for Moran to reach him. He pulled back his fist and punched Moriarty in the stomach holding nothing back. He loved hearing the sound of the criminal mastermind heave as the air was forced out of his lungs. It will be well worth the punishment.

Greg was about ready to punch Moriarty a second time when he was suddenly jumped from behind and wrestled to the floor. Both men were throwing punches, trying their best to gain the upper hand over the other, and forgetting all else. Greg had remembered about John kicking Moran on the boat and how much that looked like it hurt. He wanted to play on that weakness. So, when Greg found the spot he began to punch it over and over again forcing a scream from Moran’s lips.

“Greg!”

Greg suddenly froze when he heard John’s voice calling to him. He turned and saw Moriarty holding a steak knife to John’s chest. The madman was grinning but his eyes were dark.

“Lay on the table kitten,” Moriarty said, his tone sounding a little more irritated.

Greg swallowed. He hated to be controlled but he didn’t want John to be hurt because of him either. So, slowly he stood and walked over to the table. Staring at the knife on John’s chest, Greg could see it was just below the cut that Moran had given to him back at the warehouse.

“Please,” Greg said and hating it sounded more like a whimper.

Moriarty began to cut a little into John’s chest making John’s face twist with pain. Greg did not hesitate as he turned and hopped up onto the table. He lied down so his head was facing towards the head of the table where Moriarty had been sitting.

“Hands above your head.” Came Moriarty’s simple command.

Greg did not like where this was headed but he obeyed for John’s sake. He placed is hands back above him and was thrown when he felt a rope being tied around his wrists. Greg tilted his head back enough to see it was Moran. _How in the hell?_ He did not see the henchman get up and move around so as to tie him down to the table. However, when Moran was finished and stepped back, Greg noticed Moran limping was a little more pronounced and he smirked. But, the small victory didn't last long as the redhead glared at Greg and Greg knew what that look meant. He didn’t like that look because it meant when Moriarty would finally unleash the redhead on him that the redhead wasn’t going to show Greg any mercy. 

"Who's ready for dessert?" Moriarty asked as the cook walked in holding a tray. The cook sat it at the right corner of the table and once again retreated without speaking. 

Suddenly there was the sound of a gun being fired outside the door following silence. 

Greg and John stared at one another as the reality of their situation came crashing down around them. 

"He truly was a brilliant chef but it’s not like he _agreed_ to be here either," Moriarty murmured. 

"So you had him killed?" Greg asked feeling appalled.

"Well, I have to keep my boys safe from prying eyes, don't I? They last thing I want is someone to break up our happy little family here because you both belong to me," Moriarty said. He walked over to the tray and smiled wildly. "Now, do you want to know what's under the lid?" 

Neither spoke, afraid of what Moriarty had in store for them. 

_Please Sherlock hurry up you git_ , John whispered in his mind. 

_Mycroft get off your arse and stop this madness!_ Greg screamed through his head. 

Moriarty lifted the lid and there was something that resembled chocolate pudding in a small glass bowel. "This, my dears, is just as I said. It's your dessert." 

"What's the catch?" John asked. 

Moriarty gasped, trying to act as though he was offended by John's words. "Why Johnny boy, I'm surprised at you. What makes you think there's a catch?"

John just stared at him with a mixture irritation and annoyance.

Moriarty let out a small chuckle. “Okay, you caught me. There might be just a tiny little bit of a catch.” Moriarty paused a moment for the effect of watching the annoyance grow on both their faces. “I want you to eat this Johnny boy.” 

John couldn’t help but ask, “Is it poisoned?” 

Moriarty began to laugh. “Poisoned? Really? Oh, Johnny boy, why would it be poisoned? No, this is actually quite delicious my love.” Moriarty picked it up and put his finger in the bowel. He brought it up to his lips and licked the chocolate off. “Mmmm, tasty.”  
John sighed because he knew there was something not right about this. Moriarty was going to have him do something and more than lightly it would be to Greg. He knew enough about the criminal to see something like that happening. However, he also knew how changeable the psychopath was too. There was no telling anymore of what Moriarty was going to do. 

“Oh, I can still see it in your eyes Johnny boy. Here let me shed a light on subject then, shall I?” Moriarty walked over to the other side of the table and stood so he was facing both men and proceeded to flip the bowel over on top of Greg’s bare chest. 

Greg shuddered from the cold of the dessert and was mumbling under his breath. 

John just stared at Moriarty now realizing what was it he wanted John to do. _Do what you must in order to survive._

“All you have to do pet is to eat this off of him and I will let you both go back to your room,” Moriarty cooed as he looked into John’s blue eyes. 

“That’s all I have to do?” John asked even though he hated the idea of doing this to Greg, to his logic, it was better than being tortured or forced to watch Moriarty lick it off on Greg’s chest. Suddenly John’s cock twitched at the thought and he was cursing himself for thinking that would be a turn on. 

“Yes, my love. That is all you have to do,” Moriarty snickered seeing John fighting with himself. 

“Alright, I will do it then. Untie me,” John said while ignoring the glare of Greg. 

“Do I get a say in this?” Greg piped up. 

“Sorry kitten. Not this time either I’m afraid. Maybe next time though.” 

Moran limped slightly over to John and untied him. When John was free he slowly stood knowing it would be a futile attempt. So, he simply awaited orders. 

“Good boy,” Moriarty purred. “Now, up on the table and straddle the Inspector.” 

John did not hesitate. He turned and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the table with his legs hanging off the side. He then spun and was now on his hands and knees crawling up Greg’s body until he had a knee on either side Greg’s hips, now straddling him.

Greg’s breath was caught in his throat. He wanted to close his eyes and think about being somewhere else but for some reason he couldn’t turn his gaze from John’s. His blue eyes were just boring into his own and Greg felt himself slowly getting aroused by the good doctor. If he was fully honest with himself this wouldn’t be the first time he secretly wanted something to happen with John. Even if it was a one night thing, he really wanted to see what John was like in bed. However, this was not the way he wanted it to happen. Not with a psychic madman forcing them into something they didn’t fully know they wanted to do. Even if they did it would have been with time. Not like this.  
“Mmmm, now my love. Start licking him clean,” Moriarty purred. 

John bent down as he kept eye contact with Greg and began to lick the pudding off of his chest. Greg whimpered slightly and shifted because he felt his arousal starting to grow. 

“Interesting. My boys seemed to be enjoying this. Maybe I should have you fuck each other.” 

John froze. His eyes still on Greg’s and Greg just looked up at him wide eyed not knowing what to say. Could they do that? Would they do that? Well, if Moriarty forced them too then it wasn’t like they had a choice in the matter to say no, right? 

“Oh, so you do like the idea. Maybe if you’re really good for me then I will let you. But, until then keep licking my love. I want it all gone.” 

John obeyed and continued to lick the pudding off of Greg’s chest. He moved slowly with every stroke of his tongue until he began to taste skin. Greg shivered from the contact and couldn’t help a small humming sound that let loose in the back of his throat. Right at that moment it was just the two of them. No one else around them mattered. It felt incredible. 

However, when John was done, he sat back on his heels and looked at Moriarty of which John just realized was touching himself as he watched. John felt his stomach turning. 

“That’s my good boy,” Moriarty purred. “You may untie him and Moran will show you both back to your room as promised.” 

John picked up the steak knife that Greg had been using and cut him free of his binds. They moved off the table and stood side by side with a slight bugle pronounced in their pants. 

Moriarty walked up to John and smiled. “You have a little something on your cheek my love. Here let me get that.” He leaned forward and began to lick the rest of the chocolate pudding off of John’s face. 

John’s stomach was turning more and he closed his eyes, remaining still as Moriarty finished up licking him. He truly felt like he was being treated like his goddamn pet and John hated it. 

Moriarty pulled back and smiled gleefully. “Well, off your pop then my dears. Back to your room and I will see you soon.” Moriarty turned and retreated out of the room where the cook had left. When the criminal was gone Moran forced them back through the door that they had entered through and ushered them back down the hall and into their room without another word.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment on what you thought about this chapter all over. I am in love with it myself. I'd like to hear more from you all.  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Play time is coming. But, for who?
> 
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little shorter then the others but I wanted to set it up for the next one because of what is going to happen. Read and you will understand what I mean.
> 
>   
> 

  


Moran slammed his bedroom door behind him. His head was swimming from the events leading up to them planning this game with all of Sherlock's _friends_ to the warehouse where so many incredible things had happened. He was in awe to see James Moriarty (no, his Jim) in that state of power over the others. Cutting into Mycroft Holmes’s chest, claiming him in such a manner that Mycroft would never forget. Not to mention Jim taking what he wanted from Mycroft’s pets while he watched. Moran will never forget the look on his boss’s face. The eagerness, the thrill, the lust, of taking what didn’t belong to him and now, and now it was his. _Ours._

And now they had the Holmes's pets here and Jim was paying all his attention to them. It frustrated him to no end. He wanted to touch Jim. To be with him like before all the madness began. He leaned his back against his door and sighed. His knee was throbbing slightly and he so wished to pay the little pets back. 

Suddenly Moran felt his phone vibrate in his jean pocket and quickly extracted it. He smiled as he read the text.

_Daddy needs you tiger. Jim xoxo_

Moran's heart leaped into his throat as he read the words carefully over eight more times and to his delight the words remade the same. It had been months but he knew it would be well worth it. So, he quickly changed as he put on a custom made Italian suit that Jim had gotten for him. It was black and it fit his build well. Jim had teased how it made him look like James Bond. Moran teased back asking which one.

He put on the expensive cologne that Jim had gotten for him for his birthday just a few months ago. That had been the last time they had been together and Moran blushed and closed his eyes when the memory of what had happened that day came rushing back to him. Jim started off with waking him with receiving the most amazing blow job of his life, followed by a job that Jim already had lined up for that day. He let Moran do whatever he wanted to the low life’s wife while the husband (who had been stealing money from Moriarty) watched helplessly from the floor. It was a beautiful sight and an amazing feeling for both of them to share.

When Moran was finished and was covered in the woman’s blood he was not expecting what Jim suddenly did next. Jim took him hard and fast into a passionate kiss, moaning and grunting into his mouth while fighting for dominance over the other. But, Moran fought for control and to his surprise Jim let him have it. It was the only time Jim let him and Moran didn’t hold anything back. He had Jim on his back and holding his hands above him, penning them in place while thrusting harder over and over into the crazed criminal mastermind. He will never forget the look on Jim’ face and he knew no one else would ever see that look. It was only for him and fuck how he loved it. 

When Moran was finished, he quickly rushed out of his room and made his way to Jim’s room. He didn’t need to knock, so he turned the handle but found it too be locked. Curiosity began to consume him until he got another text.

_My office tiger. Jim xoxo_

Moran turned and headed down the hall until he reached the door at the end. He tried the doorknob and this time it turned easily in his hand. Pushing the door open, he slowly walked in and saw Jim was sitting behind his desk, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“The boy’s are having a little chat about…” Jim's words faded when he saw Moran standing in the middle of the room, his blue eyes bright and his pupils blown wide. There was no hiding the desire that was bugling from Moran’s trousers but it wasn’t like he wanted to hide it.

“You summoned me sir?” Moran asked timidly. He was playing a role as he often did because he knew how much Jim loved to role play.

“Ooh, indeed I did Mr. Moran. It seems you have been slacking around here. I do not tolerate slackers Mr. Moran. You must be punished.” Jim stood and slowly walked around his desk until he stood in front of it, leaving a good few feet between them.

Moran tried his best not to smile. He loved it when Jim jumped head first into their games and damn he was good at it. Even though Moran didn’t fear Jim, he loved to play act that he did and Moran loves to give into the moment. To let Jim taste his fear, it was intoxicating. “Punished?” Moran asked forcing his tone to shake.

Jim’s faced beamed. “Yes, you must be punished for your incompetence and the lack there of.” His faced twisted into something darker as he walked over to Moran closing the gap between them. “You have failed in everything you have done. I want to watch you burn.”

An involuntary shuddered rushed through Moran’s body. This game was different and he was starting to like it. “No, please sir. Just give me one last chance. I will do anything you ask of me. Anything at all. Please let me show to you that you mean the world to me. I…I want to please you. To keep you happy. Please, sir let me.” Moran had no clue where that came from but he truly meant ever word.

Jim was taken back at the moment but never once did the emotion show upon his face. “Then show me,” Jim snarled.

Moran dropped to his knees in front of Jim (ignoring the pain in his knee) and began to fight against his boss’s zipper. He could already see that his boss was half hard by playing this game and Moran wanted to keep it going. So, he reached into Jim’s trousers and grabbed hold of Jim’s erection. He began to gently pull it through the zipper opening and let out a small moan as he licked his lips.

Jim was looking down into his eyes and reached out to place a hand on the back of Moran’s head. He grabbed hold of his hair and pulled upward until Moran’ mouth was leveled with his cock. “Prove to Daddy you’re not totally worthless,” Jim growled.

Moran nodded and placed Jim’s cock into his mouth. He moved forward until he felt Jim's cock touch the back of his throat and slowly pulled back as he let his tongue run along the muscle underneath. He smiled when he heard Jim moan, his hips thrusting just slightly craving for more. But, Moran moved slow, taking his time and he pulled back until only the tip remained. He let his tongue glade around it and kept his eyes focused on Jim’s face as he did so.

“Fuck,” Jim breathed. The criminal’s eyes were shut and his head tilted back as he ran his hands through Moran’s ginger hair.

Moran smiled and began to hum softly in the back of his throat making Jim’s cock twitch in mouth. Another moan was forced from the Irishman as he began to try thrusting his hips more into Moran’s mouth. But, Moran grabbed hold around Jim’s ass to keep him still and was rewarded with an irritated grumble from his boss, knowing he was driving him crazy.

Moran kept up his slow pace of taking his boss’s full length into his mouth, letting it touch the back of his throat and slowly running his tongue underneath as he pulled back. He did this for another few minutes before Jim’s hands tighten through his hair, pulling him back and pushing him to the floor.

“Tease Daddy, will you? Such a naughty boy deserves to be punished!” Jim snarled. He dropped down to his knees and began to forcefully remove Moran’s trousers. A small hum came from his lips to see Moran wasn’t wearing pants. “On your knees my little slut.”

Moran was shaking. Not that he was afraid because he wasn’t but from the fact of Jim was going to fuck him. It had been a few months to Moran it felt like a life time ago since they had and he thought that Jim didn’t want him anymore. He had two new pets to play with so why bother with him at all, right?

When Moran was on his knees, Jim grabbed hold of his own cock and lined it up at Moran’s entrance. In one forcefully fast move Jim thrusts his hips forward, driving his cock deep inside Moran forcing the ginger haired man to scream. Jim did not even wait for the pain to subside. He just began to rock his hips fast and hard while grunting loudly as he did so.

“Why must you be such a bad boy for Daddy? You know it pains me to punish you so my little lamb but when you leave me no choice.” He thrusts hard forcing another scream from Moran’s lips, “This is your punishment my dear little lamb.”

Moran’s head was buzzing. Lost in the moment of listening to Jim’s words and the force he was using, it was almost too much. “Daddy, I’m…sorry. I…can…do…better.” Moran grunted between thrusts.

“Oh, I know you will my dear because you want to please me,” Jim hissed.

“Yes. Oh fuck yes!” Moran groaned feeling himself getting close to his orgasm.

“Then cum my little lamb,” Jim moaned.

The next few thrusts Jim was hitting Moran’s prostate and Moran couldn’t take it anymore. He found his toes starting to curl as the build up to his orgasm start to release all over him and the floor. “Oh fuck Jim!”

That was all Jim needed when he thrusts his hips forward one last time and released his load deep inside of Moran. “Oh fuck yes Sebby!”Jim cried.

Both men now spent and panting hard, Moran lay on his stomach on the floor and Jim was lying against his back. Moran was unclear on how long they remained like that but for Moran it seemed like a life time. He wanted to remain like this forever but he knew Jim would probably get bored and would need to move on. But, for now this moment with Jim was only his and he would cherish it just like he did him.

When Jim finally pulled away, Moran had to keep himself for whining from the lack of warmth from his…from his lover? No, he couldn’t say that. Yes, he loved Jim but he wasn’t for sure Jim could love. He didn’t even think Jim had it in him too. Shaking his head he turned over and saw Jim tucking himself back into his trousers and smiled down at him. Moran’s heart felt like it had skipped a beat from the look in those eyes staring back at him. _Maybe he does love me._

Jim made his way back over to his desk and sat in his chair. His eyes fixed back onto the computer screen. 

Moran wanted to lay in the bliss of the after math of his orgasm but he heard a low moan escape his boss’s lips. Curiosity took hold; Moran stood and pulled his trousers back on. He made his way over behind his boss and he too hummed deep in his throat as they looked at the computer screen. 

"Looks like our boys are starved for attention, eh Sebby dear?" Moriarty purred never letting his gaze wonder from the screen. 

"What do you think we should do sir?" Moran asked craving to tare the Inspector apart. 

"Play time," Moriarty cooed as he stood and headed for the door with Moran following close behind. 

******

John was standing at the bathroom sink and desperately wished for a mirror. It was hard to see the cuts on his chest to be able to clean them up. 

"Need a little help?" Greg asked from the doorway. 

John turned and met the Inspectors gaze. He smiled softly and nodded. "If you don't mind." 

Greg walked over to the sink and grabbed hold of the rag that was in John's hand. He ran warm water over it and brought it up to John's chest. He gently pressed it onto the doctor’s wounds and John let out a low hiss of pain. "Sorry mate." 

John closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "It's alright. I appreciate you doing this." 

Greg smiled softly as he pulled the rag back to run it under the water once one. "John," Greg began; his voice a little timid, "Do we have a plan yet? On getting out of here I mean?" 

John met his eyes. His brow furrowed and sighed. "Not as of yet, no. We might not be able to Greg." 

"Well, I'm sure we can figure something out. After all we are dating the two most intelligent brains in London." Greg snickered.

John chuckled then frowned. "How long have you been with him?" 

"Since the day you went on top of Bart's," Greg whispered lowering his gaze.

John looked puzzled. "How did you..." 

"I was there John. I saw what you were about to do and I was going to stop you but Mycroft got to you first. I saw how gentle he was with you and at that moment I realized I wanted to be with him. It seemed his feelings were mutual but he never had the courage to ask me." 

John turned his gaze away. Embarrassed that Greg knew that he was going to kill himself but thankful he wasn't pushing the issue. 

"I'm sorry John that I hadn't told you sooner. Mycroft wanted to keep it a secret because of job security. I never wanted to hurt you," Greg whispered. 

"You didn't hurt me. I understand my friend. I'm glad you found happiness Greg. I saw how he stood up for you. He loves you." 

"I know he does. Funny thing is we had never said it. However I did tell him I loved him back at the warehouse. I didn't think I was going to get another chance to say it," Greg murmured. He lowered his hand since he was done cleaning up John's wounds. "All done." 

"Thank you," John replied a sad smile on his face. He walked past Greg and sat down on the bed. 

Greg threw the rag on the sink and turned. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his bare chest. A small smile stretched across his face. "What about you?" Greg asked softly. 

"What about me what?" John asked seeming confused. 

Greg sighed and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to John, their thighs almost touching. "Sherlock," Greg said simply. 

"What about him?" 

Greg let out a sigh. "The bloody git is alive John! I'm still in shock!" 

John turned his gaze to his own hands. He still had so many questions and the only one that could set his emotions straight was once again taken from him. Well this time it was the other way around. Still he wanted to be with Sherlock and hoped he was working hard to find them. "I’m not really sure at the moment how I feel.” 

Greg placed a hand on John’s thigh. “Can’t even begin to image John what you must be feeling right now but just know I’m here for you,” Greg murmured. 

John’s gaze went from where Greg’s hand was on his thigh to look up into the Inspectors eyes. For a moment they just stayed like that without speaking a word. Then the next thing neither of them knew what possessed them but John found his lips were suddenly pressed against Greg’s. For a moment they stayed like that, frozen in place until Greg began to kiss John back. John moaned low in his throat as he began to push Greg back, forcing him to lie back on the bed. Greg didn’t fight him. He wanted this with John and right now John was hurt. Greg realized it might be a stupid move on their part because they both were emotionally compromised but somehow it felt right. They needed this. They needed each other. 

John moved so he was straddling Greg, his hips moving slowly while his erection was pressed into Greg’s. “Oh, fuck,” John whimpered. 

“I want you John. Just once is all I ask,” Greg whispered as pulled John down so he was not nibbling his neck. “Please.” 

“Oh, Greg. I’ve wanted…fuck…I’ve wanted you too,” John moaned as he kept rock his hips. 

“Then fuck me,” Greg pleaded. 

“Oh I’ll do more than just fuck you Greg. I’ll…” 

Just then the door opened and both Moriarty and Moran walked into the room. John spun off of Greg and both of them looked like they had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Starting the party without me boys? For shame. It seems you must be taught were your proper place is,” Moriarty hissed as two other really big men came into the room. “Johnny boy I want you to come with me. Moran will see to the needs of the Inspector.” 

Greg’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the smirk of Moran’s face. “No, please. I’ll do anything.” 

Moriarty smiled. “Well, of course you will. You will do anything that Sebby asks of you kitten. If you do not then Johnny will be punished. That goes for you too Johnny boy. If you do not listen to me then Gregory will be punished.” 

John looked to Greg and felt horrible about leaving him to that monster. He should have realized Moriarty had camera's around. Sherlock would have known. _Stupid!_

“Come along pet. Don’t keep me waiting,” Moriarty purred. 

John moved off the bed and walked over towards Moriarty. He took one last look at Greg before Moriarty ushered him out the door.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I did alright so far with this. What did you think? More to come.
> 
>   
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days ago.
> 
> Hopefully they aren't completely fucked!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I do have some people trying to help of the grammar but it's taking time. I can fix it again once the other chapters will be but I don't want to keep you all awaiting for the next one. 
> 
> This is going into the second day for the boys being with Moriarty and two days ago from when the dvd was sent to Sherlock and Mycroft. Building up to the that scene slowly for the dvd. Then I will move on from there. 
> 
> Please enjoy.  
> 

  


As the door closed, Moran turned his full attention on Greg. “You know I’m going to enjoy this, my sweet little Inspector. I’m going to take you apart a little bit at a time.” His smile widen as his pupils dilated while his cock twitched between his legs. “On the bed my sweet.”

When the door had opened before, John had leapt off of him; Greg had jumped to his feet. He stood now over by the bathroom doorway and wondered if he could make it to the rag on the sink before Moran made it to him. He could use it in some form, couldn’t he? Maybe he could use it to choke the lunatic with but that thought was quickly pushed out of his mind when Moran spoke his next few words carefully.

“John Watson will be punished if you do not follow my orders my sweet,” Moran smirked.

Greg wanted slap that smirk right off of his face. Then the thought occurred to him. How much more could they punish them from what was about to happen now? The lunatic before him was breathing heavier, his pupils were blown wide, and he had a predatorily grin on his face. Greg was scared out of his mind because he knew what all those signs meant, that this man was about to rape him.

“One last warning. On. The. Bed. Now.” Moran’s voice was sharp and dangerous.

Greg closed his eyes for a brief moment. He could not win this if he tried. So, he did as he was told and climbed onto the bed. He moved so now he was centered in the middle of the bed and lying on his back.

“Hands above your head my sweet.”

Greg obeyed and placed his hands above his head just like he had done in the dining room when he was on the table. He watched as Moran began to slowly strip his clothes off, his gaze locked onto Greg’s as he did so. Greg wanted to look away but for the fear of being harmed, Greg kept his attention on the ginger haired man. It was a task but he did it.

Moran was naked now and he slowly made his way over to the side of the bed, ignoring the slightest pain in his knee when he walked. He stood there looking down at Greg and stretched out a hand to the DI’s chest. Greg’s body stiffened at the sudden hand on his bare skin.

“You are beautiful. More so then you could ever image." He let his hand ghost over Greg's nipples. Greg bit back a low whimper. "You know, I’ve watched you on the CCTV cameras for some time now and I must confess I've never imaged that I'd have you like this. The plan was about fucking with the doctor and Sherlock. I never dreamed of this. That Jim would would let me have a pet all to myself. However, you were not my first choice but giving how Jim made you cum like he had, I knew then I had to have you.” Moran voice was soft as he gently ran a hand through Greg’s chest hair from one nibble to another.

His touch made Greg's skin crawl. This was insane. Why would this man pay any mind to him? Just like the question of, why would Moriarty pay any mind to John? This was madness. Was it because of the Holmes brothers? If so that would make a whole hell a lot more since to him. That these two criminals wanted something that they knew they could never have so they took it by force. Were they jealous of the Holmes brothers finding happiness? Greg thought now that they were. These men were the villains of the story and the villain never wins. His love for Mycroft will prove that and he would remain strong. Suddenly a question came rushing to his mind, that despite what was about to happen he had to know the answer too. "Who was your first choice?" Greg asked timidly.

"Ms. Molly Hooper," Moran smirked and loved the terrified expression on the DI's face. "So you could think of it this way my sweet. That you saved Ms. Hooper from this fate." Moran moved onto the bed now. It dipped slightly from the extra weight as the lunatic moved to straddle the DI’s hips. “You know, I was going to hurt you for what you had done back in the dining room but now I think I want to make love to you instead.”

Greg’s eyes grew wide in shock. _Oh, god no._ Panic took hold of him and he brought a fist forward connecting with Moran’s jaw. Greg repeated the act and started to struggle and wiggle his way out from the lunatics grasp.

But, this only made Moran's rage burn. He grabbed hold of Greg’s arms and shoved them down at his sides before grabbing hold of the DI’s shoulder. Before Greg could counter act the blow, Moran’s forehead met Greg’s in a head butt. Greg saw stars and was unable to stop Moran from tying down his wrists to the head board. _Where the hell did the rope come from?_

Both men were panting hard and just stared the other down for a few moments. 

Greg’s head was bounding now and he was unable to think clearly. He didn’t want this but he couldn’t find his voice to say no.

“Well, I was going to be gentle my sweet but after that little stunt I’m not going to be. Just think I was going to prep you nice and slow with lube even. Now, the only thing you’re getting is what little precum I have.”

Greg began to panic again and finally managed to find his voice. “No, please. I’m sorry. Please.” He sounded pathetic and weak. It didn’t make since why Mycroft chose him.

“Ooh, I like you begging. Come on my sweet and tell me you want me to make love to you then. I want to hear it from your lushes’ lips.” Moran purred as he began to lay gentle kisses on Greg’s neck.

 _Oh god._ “I…I want you to…make love to me?” Greg stammered. He really had a hard time speaking the words because he didn’t want this at all. But, it would be better than taking him by force, wouldn’t it?

“Mmmm, okay my sweet. Since you asked so nicely, who am I to say no?” Moran purred as he moved his lips up to meet Greg’s. The kiss was gentle and Moran pushed his tongue inside Greg's mouth. 

Greg wanted to gag. It felt even worse that the lunatic was being so gentle. Maybe he needed the henchman to use force. This was how Mycroft was with him when they made love. Their kisses were slow, gentle, and playful. If this lunatic would make "love" to him then Greg was unsure he could handle being with Mycroft. He needed this to be rough and to make it hurt. So, without warning Greg bit down on Moran's tongue. Blood filled both of their mouths as Moran pulled back. Moran’s hand quickly covered his mouth while looking down at Greg with daggers.

Greg tried to brace for it as he watched Moran pull his arm back and slapped Greg across the face holding nothing back. Greg's vision blurred while his ears rage out from the sound of the slap. "Rough it is then," Moran snarled.

Moran grabbed hold of Greg's face and slammed his blood stained mouth against Greg's into an utterly filthy kiss. It was nothing but tongues, teeth, and rage, which made Greg, cry out from the pain. Moran didn't care. He was going to make this hurt.

"You stupid little bitch!" Moran snarled when he pulled his lips back from Greg's.

Greg was terrified and his body began to shake. This was going to hurt and he just hoped he wouldn't be ruined completely after this. 

Moran grabbed hold of Greg’s legs and threw them over his shoulders while grabbing hold of his cock and lined it up with Greg’s anus. He gave Greg a devilish grin before he thrust his hips forward, forcing Greg to howl out in agony. “Fuck you’re tight,” Moran huffed but not wanting to give Greg any time to recover, he began thrusting his hips repeatedly over and over forcing Greg to cry out from the pain. Tears were streaming down the DI’s cheeks and Moran leaned down and licked them away. “Mmmm, so precious,” he purred. 

Greg kept his eyes tightly shut and knew his face must have been twisted with a pained expression. He felt something warm leaking out of his arse and down his cheeks. There was no doubt in Greg’s mind that that was blood. _Mycroft,_ his mind ached for his lover. He truly wished he could be with him right now or at least he wished he could retreat back inside his mind like Sherlock could do. Even Mycroft from time to time would go to his “Mind Palace” when the occasion needed it. Greg wished he could do that right now. Just to retreat into his mind but he couldn’t do that. He was a cop and being a cop he had to keep his mind alert and focused, something he was now cursing ten times over. 

“Such a good little slut,” Moran panted as he kept thrusting hard and fast. 

Greg hissed and tried to shift slightly. It hurt like hell and he hoped that this would be over soon. That the bastered would just use him and be done with him. But, now he realized that wasn’t going to be the case. He suddenly gasped as his eyes flew open meeting the ginger haired man’s dark gaze. Moran had curled his fingers around Greg’s cock while slowing his pace slightly. 

“I want to make you cum my sweet,” Moran cooed. 

_Fuck that!_ Greg began to pull on his restraints, ignoring how the ropes bit into his skin. It hurt but Greg didn’t want this. He began to buck, trying hard to get Moran off of him. But Moran just laughed. He seemed amused by the sudden panic in _his_ pet. 

“Oh, you don’t want to cum for me?” 

“No,” Greg chocked out annoyed how pathetic his voice sounded.

“To bad lover,” Moran purred letting the last word roll off his tongue as he moved his hand slowly up and down Greg’s staff while pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in slowly.

Greg’s body shuddered. A small moan escaped his lips without meaning too. 

“Mmmm, yes. That’s it my sweet. Let yourself go.” Moran began to slow his pace a little bit more, rocking his hips upward at an angle now. 

Greg let out another low groan as he pressed his head back into the pillow from Moran now hitting his prostate. He didn’t want this to feel good damn it but Moran forcing his body into it, he had no choice. 

“Someone’s enjoying themselves. See, I knew you would lover.” 

“Stop calling me that!” Greg snarled through gritted teeth. This man could never be his lover. He could never live up to what Mycroft met to him. 

Moran chuckled flicking a finger over the tip of Greg’s hardening cock. “Does it really bother you that much kitten?” Moran said thrusting forward to meet Greg’s prostrate. Greg moaned as his eyes rolled back into his head. Why was this happening to him? How could he have caught the attention of any of these men? Sure he was a cop but he was ordinary and boring, wasn’t he? He was nothing like John was who somehow caught the eye of two sociopaths. However, the British Government seemed to notice him but just because he too was a Holmes shouldn’t mean anything, right? _Damn them both!_

Moran began to pick up a little speed again. His hand on the DI’s cock, keeping timed rhythm with each thrust of his hips. He could feel Greg’s body slowly beginning to tense and shake slightly which told him that the DI was getting close. “My dad always said that I should get my bitches off first,” Moran chuckled. “Cum for me lover.” 

Greg did his best to fight his body but with what the lunatic was doing to him, Greg began to feel a pool of heat bubbling up inside of his stomach. No, he didn’t want this! He wanted Mycroft. He needed his lover to help get him through this when suddenly out of nowhere he heard Mycroft’s voice echo through his mind whispering, _“It’s alright Greg. I’m here for you.”_ Greg began to shout as he spilled over Moran’s hand. _Mycroft._ Hearing Mycroft’s words had helped to send Greg over the edge once more. Knowing this wasn’t his fault for being forced to get off and that he could do nothing to stop it from happening, Greg now realized Mycroft had been trying to help to make it easier to deal with. It had worked. Hearing his lovers words is what made this moment easier because he knew Mycroft would help him get through this once he was safely back in his warm embrace. 

“Fuck!” Moran hissed as Greg’s body constricted itself around Moran’s cock. “Christ!” Moran’s thrust his hips, driving his cock deep inside Greg and released his load. He dropped down onto Greg’s chest panting like a dog with a satisfied grin on his face. “God, I’m going to have so much fun with you.” 

Greg turned his head to the side, his eyes closed as he felt Moran’s cock soften until he felt it slip out of his arse. He felt more liquid running down his cheeks and shuddered knowing it was the monsters cum leaking from him. 

Moran hummed softly as he ran his hand through Greg’s chest hair. “I’m truly lucky to have such an amazing job as I do. I get paid to kill people and to fuck people. Sometimes willingly and sometimes not,” Moran said as he chuckled darkerly. “Now, I get my own personal pet that I get to do with as I please. It truly is a dream come true.” 

Greg thought he was going to be sick. The last thing he wanted was to be pleasured or to give pleasure to this lunatic but with hearing those words he was afraid it was going to come down to that. If Mycroft and Sherlock didn’t do something soon, if they couldn’t find them, then John was right. There was no hope of getting out of here. They truly were fucked.

*****

Moriarty lead John to a better part of the mansion and yes it was a fucking huge ass mansion. _Where the hell was there a mansion like this in London?_ John was confused and knew with such a difference in the home of where they were being kept and now walking through the Victorian style home, it would be very difficult for Sherlock to find them. 

Moriarty came to a stop in front of a large oak door. He turned and smiled at John and said, “This can be your room Johnny boy if you want it to be.” Moriarty opened the door and stood back letting John enter before him. 

John slowly inched his way into the room and was taken back by how beautiful it was. The carpet was a gold coloring with a huge king size wood canopy bed. It had an olive green comforter and same color satin sheets to match. He turned to Moriarty who was smiling at him. “I don’t understand this. Why would you do this?”

Moriarty slowly walked over to John and pulled him into a tight embrace. John did not fight it as he felt Moriarty’s lips press against his neck. “Because,” Moriarty breathed, “I meant what I said John. I want you and I want you to be happy. So, I thought that this might help to prove that.” 

John shivered under his embrace. _Christ!_ He felt his head begin to spin as his cock twitched. Moriarty really knew how to get his motor started. “But, I don’t want…” 

Moriarty nibbled at John’s neck. “Yes, you do love. You want this just as much as I do.” His hand glided over the front of John’s pants. John let out a small gasp, surprised with how hard he already was. “See, I knew you wanted this. I know you want me to fuck you Johnny. Tell me you want Daddy to fuck you.” 

John’s body stiffened as he had the urge to put up more of a fight but he kept thinking of the threat that was in place. If he didn’t play nice than Greg would get hurt making it his fault and he didn’t want to be the main cause of his friend’s misery. So he was going to follow orders like a good little soldier and do what Moriarty asked of him. 

“Come on my love. Tell Daddy you want me to fuck you until you pass out,” Moriarty purred as he bit a little harder at John’s neck. 

John’s body shivered again and he hummed deep in his throat. “Oh, fuck,” he managed to say. Moriarty slipped his hand under John’s pants, forcing an, “Oh Christ,” from John’s lips and making Moriarty groan from gridding his body against John’s body. 

“Oh, please Johnny. Do you want Daddy to fuck you?” the Irish voice hummed. 

“Oh, fuck, yes. Please, Daddy. Fuck me.” John had no idea where that came from but he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly at all. It had been so long since he had someone touch him like this, to give him a good fuck that he so desperately craved. Maybe that is why he jumped onto Greg. He wanted the contact. He wanted Sherlock. Suddenly the memory of Sherlock jumping for the boat flashed before his eyes forcing John to pull away from the Consulting Criminal. _Sherlock._ “I can’t do this.” 

“Well, why not?” Moriarty pouted. “You were so willing to give yourself to me at the warehouse and just a few minutes ago you were about to fuck the Inspector.” He study John for a moment and then it hit him making Moriarty frown. “This is about him, isn’t it? Just because he’s alive shouldn’t mean a damn thing. Just think for a moment Johnny. Use your brain. He made you watch him fall to his _death_ and for 2 long years he let you grieve, hate, and almost kill yourself. Yes, I know about that too. It’s not like he was the only one keeping an eye on you Johnny. If Mycroft hadn’t stepped in I would have.” 

John froze. He didn’t know what to do or what to say to this man. To this crazy arse of a psychopath who was throwing himself at him. He didn’t know what he felt about all of this. Sherlock was alive yes and he had loved him and yes he still did, but could they make it work between them? Could John learn to trust Sherlock after putting him through all of this? Why was Mycroft the one to stop him from killing himself when Sherlock probably saw him up there? He could have shown himself then and all of this might not even be happening right now if he had. 

Moriarty took a step closer towards John. “If you were with me Johnny I would never lie to you. I’ve never lied to you and I would never leave you in the dark. I’d make you feel wanted and to give you a purpose. You love danger Johnny. You crave it and who better than yours truly to give that all to you. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

John let out a sigh. He hated to think it and he didn’t want to say it but Moriarty made a lot of since. “I…I don’t know…” John whispered as he ran a hand through his short blonde hair. He couldn’t make this decision. Not right now anyway. 

Moriarty took another step closer. “You don’t have to decide right now my love. I don’t want you too. However, I do want you to put all feelings and thoughts aside about him and about me and just enjoy being fucked.” 

John turned his gaze away. He really shouldn’t be considering this but damn it, it had felt good being touched. Moriarty had him under some kind of spell and John didn’t know if he could break free from it even if he tried. Looking back at Moriarty he saw the criminal had moved closer to him without him realizing it. His dark brown eyes were boring into his own as a predatorily grin stretched across the criminal’s face. “Fuck it!” John huffed as he launched himself forward locking his lips against Moriarty’s. 

Moriarty hummed deep in his throat. _Mine!_ His mind growled as he fought for dominance over John. 

The kiss felt slow and passionate to John and in his mind he thought about Sherlock. He couldn’t help it because he still so desperately wished this was him. How could he cope with this knowing he was giving himself to this madman? _No, you aren’t giving yourself to him. He had threatened you and Greg. Do what you must in order to survive._

Moriarty pulled back slightly because he could tell John was thinking too much and he didn’t like that. _I’ll show you little one why I’m better than him._ Moriarty turned John around and pulled his body into his own. He began to kiss John’s neck, letting his tongue glide over any part of skin it could reach. “I’m the only one that knows what you need Johnny.” Moriarty curled his fingers inside the top of John’s pants. He slowly moved his body down John’s and hummed as he stood back up, cupping John’s cheeks in his hands. “So beautiful…my John.” 

John shivered but not because of Moriarty’s words that he whispered into his ear but by the voice growling inside his mind saying, _“Not your John. My John.”_ It was Sherlock’s and it made his smile softly to himself. 

Moriarty could see this was going to take time. If Anthea hadn’t of shown up when she had then John would have already been his. They would be fucking right now and his cock twitched knowing John would be screaming his own name. Why did that thought arouse him like that? Why did he want this? John let out a small whimper and Moriarty felt the flame spark anew. “On the bed Johnny,” Moriarty purred. “On your knees.” 

John obeyed as he moved forward towards the bed and cradle on his hands and knees until he was in the center of the bed. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes growing wide from the sight before him. Their eyes were locked as John watched Moriarty strip off his jacket and laying it on the back of near by chair. The criminal then began to undo his tie and placed it on top of his jacket. Slowly be began to unbutton his shirt and stripped it off of him while smiling devilishly at John. John’s breath hitched as Moriarty unbutton his trousers and slowly pushed them down along with his pants. As he stepped out of them he pulled off his shoes and socks along with them. He stood there naked, half hard and smiling at John for a long moment before he turned and walked over to a dresser to pick up a small white bottle. John’s gaze never wavered once from Moriarty’s perfect form. For some reason he had the urge to touch him, to bite him, to fuck the criminal until he begged for more. He wanted to turn the tables but felt like that would never happen with James Moriarty. The man was used to controlling people, mutilating them into submission because that is exactly what he did to John. Finally John turned his head back around and closed his eyes. He could hear Moriarty move around behind him and he stiffened as the bed dipped down and feeling Moriarty’s hands gliding over his arse once more. 

“You know, you have the perfect little arse Johnny. It just screams to be fucked.” 

John could hear the smile in Moriarty’s voice. It was something he was starting to get use too. 

“I want you to lean down Johnny. Chest and face to the mattress and hands behind your back.”

John once again obeyed. He moved his head down towards the mattress and placed his hands behind him. There was a short pause and John almost gasped when he felt something silky wrap around his wrists, binding them together. John didn’t know what to think. It was hot to him to be captive and fucked but it was only a fantasy. Even if he did want it to happen he didn’t want it to be with this man, right? _It’s not like you have a choice John._

“Such a good little boy for Daddy,” Moriarty cooed. “Daddy is going to show you just what good little boys deserve.” 

John was trying his best to relax his body as he heard the sound of a cap popping off the bottle. Then a slick finger began to move around his anus and John’s breath hitched when Moriarty slid the finger inside of him. 

“Oh, so tight Johnny. Have you ever been fucked before?” 

John didn’t want to answer him. He was lost in the sination of Moriarty fingering at his prostate. He let out a small moan. 

Moriarty slipped another finger inside. “Tell me Johnny.” 

John gasped as his body tightens. _Fuck!_ “I…I…” John’s mind was fuzzy. He can’t think straight and gasp as Moriarty slips in a third finger. “Fuck!” John chocked out. His body wants to collapses on the bed but Moriarty’s other hand grips over John’s binds to keep him up right. 

Moriarty slowly spreads his fingers apart, making sure to open John up before thrusting himself inside of him. It’s hard for the criminal because the noises coming from John’s lips are precious and only for him. “Are you ready Johnny? Do you want Daddy to fuck you?” 

John can’t breathe. His brain is completely shut down as his body takes over. It’s craving for more; to be filled with whatever that madman wants to do, John will let him. “Christ. Please Daddy. Oh, fuck! I want it. I want you to fuck me.” 

Moriarty smiles, pulling his fingers slowly out, he lines himself up with John’s anus and slowly begins to push. John his pushed more into the bed and lets out a low whimper of pain. It hurts. Christ it hurts but John pushes through it. John realizes his body has got tight again and he focuses on it to relax because it will hurt less. 

Moriarty is all the way in now and stops so John could catch his breath. “So beautiful John. My John.” 

The voice snarls again in his mind, _“Not your John. My John!”_ John almost hesitates but he pushes his thoughts of _him_ aside. He wants to only focus on the cock itself sliding in and out of him now. It feels heavily and John lets out a small moan of pleasure. 

Moriarty starts to pick up his pace a little more. He wants them to cum at the same time but he doesn’t want to touch John’s cock in order to do so. No, he gets another brilliant idea. Moriarty pulls John back by his binds. John hisses from the angle his body his being forced at but then his jerks and whimpers on the sudden attack of lips on his scar. It should probably hurt but for some reason it is a direct link to his cock. “Oh, fuck!” John screams. It was becoming unbearable. 

“Cum for me lover,” Moriarty coos. He keeps up his thrusts and his attack on John’s shoulder as he does so. It’s a beautiful sight and he was so happy he was recording this so he could masturbate to it later on. “You truly are amazing Johnny.” 

John began to move back onto Jim’s cock, meeting each thrust. Each time his cock meeting is prostrate. It was intoxicating. “Oh shit,” John breathed. He could feel the pool of heat in the pit of his stomach starting to take hold. This was it. There was no turning back from this. 

“Oh, John,” Moriarty rasped in a deep voice as his body began to tighten. _Almost…_

John’s mind shifted and the voice that he heard forced his mouth to groan, “Sherlock.” He began to cum with Moriarty cumming deep inside of him. 

_NO!_ Moriarty was angry. Once again he almost had him. He was so damn close and now realizing his mistake he began to thrust faster than before making John scream. “I’m…Not…Him!” Moriarty snarled with each deep thrust.

John screamed out from the pain. He didn’t mean to say Sherlock’s name and he wasn’t sure why he had because he _knew_ who was fucking him. Maybe his mind got lost in the moment but he still _knew._ “Please, I didn’t mean too…” John pleaded. 

Moriarty pulled out of him and slapped John’s cheeks hard. “You will learn!” Moriarty snarled as he kept slapping John’s arse forcing John to yelp. “I’m your master, your Daddy, your lover. Not him. ME!” Moriarty scream the last word as he held nothing back on the finally slap making John scream. 

Tears ran down John’s cheeks, hating himself for turning to moment into something painful even though it didn’t have to be. “I’m sorry,” John sobbed. 

Moriarty moved away from him then and off the bed. John tried to turn to see where the criminal had gone too and flinched when Moriarty stepped into his line of vision. Because the look on the madman’s face was only something that could be describe as ugly. 

“Sorry?” Moriarty voice sound like venom as he spat out the word. “No, I don’t think you are pet but I assure you that you’re going to be very soon.” 

Moriarty moved out of his sight once more and John was terrified on what that meant. It also helped to remind John of who he was dealing with. That Moriarty could turn on him with just a flip of a switch and that was a bit not good. What was the madman going to do to him? Now, John truly longed for Sherlock. He closed his eyes and shifted his thoughts back to the very first time they were on a case together. How they ran around London and ended up back at 221B laughing and carrying on when came a knock at the door. His cane that he had forgotten about was returned to him and he looked back at that gorgeous smiling face of his flatmate. Sherlock's smile wasn’t one of ‘I told you so’ but of one that made John feel alive. Because since he had returned back from the war, no one but no one saw John Hamish Watson. No one except the world's only Consult Detective. A brilliant man who gave him so much, the greatest man he would ever know, Sherlock Holmes. _I love you too._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always help. Please, let me know what you think.
> 
> I rewrote the ending a little before I posted it and it made me so emotional. LOL. OMG! Let me know what you think.  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working out the next steps of the plan.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone that this took so long. I know there is somethings that need to be fixed on it and I am sorry for that. I wanted to get something up though. Next chapter will be a little better I promise.  
> 

  


John retreated to past memories back before all this madness began and it shifted to someone he thought his mind would never pay any more attention too. It was the memory of when he had stepped out of a black car and walked into an empty warehouse expecting Mycroft but instead was greeted by a very much alive Irene Alder - his heart had sank. Not because she was alive but because she hadn’t told Sherlock she was. His flatmate seemed slightly broken and it angered him that she made him _feel_ like that.

_"Hello, Doctor Watson."_  
 _It had been like hearing a ghost echoing his name through a dream. It took him a minute to regain his composer but there was still a note of pleading in his tone. "Tell him you’re alive."_  
 _Irene shook her head and said, "He’d come after me."_  
 _"I’ll come after you if you don’t."_  
 _She half smiled at him. "Mmm, I believe you."_  
 _John sighed. His voice a little louder then he meant it to be. "You were dead on a slab. _It was definitely you."_  
 _Irene shrugged. "DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep."_  
 _"And I bet you know the record-keeper."_  
 _"I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear."_  
 _"Then how come I can see you, and I don’t even want to?"_  
 _"Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help."_  
 _"No."_  
 _"It’s for his own safety."_  
 _"So’s this: tell him you’re alive."_  
 _"I can’t John._  
 _John sighed clearly fighting back his anger. "Fine. I’ll tell him, and I still won’t help you."_  
 _He turns and starts to walk away._  
 _"What do I say?"_  
 _Irene's words halted him but he was furious as he turned back to her and asked, "What do you normally say? You’ve texted him a lot."_  
 _Irene reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She held it up as John stopped and glared at her. "Just the usual stuff."_  
 _"There is no ‘usual’ in this case."_  
 _Irene looked down at her phone and started to read back messages she had sent to Sherlock._  
 _“Good morning”; “I like your funny hat”; “I’m sad tonight. Let’s have dinner” ..._  
 _John looked startled as Irene continued._  
 _"You looked sexy on ‘Crimewatch’. Let’s have dinner”; “I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner”._  
 _John stared at her in disbelief. "You ... flirted with Sherlock Holmes?!"_  
 _Irene was still looking at her phone as she said, "At him. He never replies."_  
 _"No, Sherlock always replies – to everything. He’s Mr Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last word."_  
 _"Does that make me special?"_  
 _John hesitated before he said, "I don’t know. Maybe. __  
 _"Are you jealous?"_  
 _"We’re not a couple."_  
 _"Yes you are. There ..." She held up her phone to show John the screen, although he’s too far away to read it. She tells him what she had typed anyway. “I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.”She pressed the Send button._  
 _John turned away momentarily and then turned back to her. He said quietly, "Who ... who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but – for the record – if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay."_  
 _"Well, I am. Look at us both."_  
 _John laughed ruefully. Just then an orgasmic female sigh could be heard a short distance away. In the corridor outside the room, unseen by either of them, Sherlock switched his phone off and rapidly walked away. John started to walk in the direction of the sound but Irene held out her hand to stop him. She looked at him pointedly._  
 _"I don’t think so, do you?"___  


Then his thoughts shifted to Mycroft informing him that Irene had _officially_ died and how the elder Holmes made John truly believe his words. That told him that there had been only two people who had known that she had lived and it did anger him that Sherlock couldn't trust him enough to let him in on that little secret. He won't lie at the fact that he was truly annoyed to found out the way he had. _We're going to have a very long talk Sherlock when you get me out of this you brat,_ he grumbled in his mind. 

_Suddenly, a female voice broke through his train of thought. He drew in a shaky breath as Irene began to speak to him._  
 _“John? I’m sorry John. I really am. You must believe that.”_  
John could feel his anger rising fast and he was doing all he could to keep it under control.  
 _“John…I…Please John, please believe me that I need you too…”_  
 _John cut Irene off by snapping his gaze towards her, his voice like ice as he growled, “No, Irene. I don’t have to listen to you! I never wanted to see you the first time and even then I saw you. No, you’re supposed to be dead just like…” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. He was doing his best trying to fight back his tears because they were all suppose to be dead and the one person he wanted the most was nowhere to be seen. It’s unfair!_  
 _“John please you must listen to me,” Irene tried again, her voice in a low whisper. “He saved me John. I was going to die but at the very last second he came to my rescue.”_ _John began to shake slightly. His anger still rising as he noticed silent tears began to run down his cheeks. Keeping his head turned so his friends could not see his tears he muttered, “Well, doesn’t seem like anyone is coming to our rescue this time.”_  


But, they had tried and in some form they had succeeded. The others were safe and he was grateful for that. However, he was still unclear on why his thoughts went to her but her words still rang out through his mind. Sherlock cared for her and she cared for him too. It was odd to him - the only woman to brilliantly take on Sherlock Holmes and beat him more times than he could count on one hand. She had fascinated his flatmate to no end. Still she had been blunt about telling him that he was in love with Sherlock Holmes and to the world they were a couple even if they, themselves, never said it. John didn’t want to deny the attraction he had for his flatmate but Sherlock didn't give him much a choice. The consulting detective had made it clear the first time they met that he wasn't interested and if he were, would they really have to call themselves that? A couple that is? Everything was fine the way it had been, wasn’t it? He shook his head knowing very well that once again Irene Alder was painfully right and she was truly something _special_ in her own way. 

John proved time and time again he would do everything in his power to keep Sherlock safe. There was something between them, yes, but despite the fact of where he was now, John was having so many mixed emotions about his flatmate. He kind of loathed that he was the one here in Moriarty’s grasp but it wasn’t like he could have done anything to stop it. None of them could have predicted this outcome. Moriarty had been a part of Sherlock’s life since they were kids, even if Sherlock didn’t realize it then, it seemed Moriarty had kept an eye on him ever since the Carl Powers case. So, really this wasn’t Sherlock’s faults but damn it, it didn’t keep John from stewing over it. 

Still lost within his thoughts about Sherlock, John didn’t hear Moriarty return because suddenly two different sets of very strong hands grabbed hold of either side of him. Against his better judgment, the two options of fight or flight came rushing back to him and he began to struggle despite the fact he knew it was pointless to try, he couldn’t give in. Not again. 

“I see you’ve been letting that little imagination run wild again Johnny boy. He isn’t coming for you. You belong to me pet and the sooner you get that through that thick skull of yours the better.” 

“I didn’t mean too. I said I was sorry Jim,” John said hastily. Panic started to set in a little as he tried to turn his head but with the two different pairs of hands holding him, it was hard for him to twist to see what Moriarty was going to do because he knew something bad was about to happen to him. 

“No, I don’t think you are pet. I so had hoped that this was going to be different but I guess the collar wasn’t enough was it pet, or this room, or me fucking your brains out. What must I do to show you that you belong to me?” Moriarty hissed as he let the words roll around on his tongue. 

_Think John,_ the voice screamed in his mind, _say something to get you out of this!_ “I do belong to you Jim. Back at that room, you started to help me see that. I do understand.” 

Moriarty ignored him. “I understood the first time why you had said his name. You were high so I get that but now? No, that won’t do pet. That will never do.” 

_FUCK!_ “Jim please, I’m sorry.” John was annoyed how much fear was in his voice but as this point it wasn’t like he could hide it. 

“I’m sure you are pet but you still need to be shown that you do not belong to him anymore. You are mine and you always will be.” There was a pause then, “Oh, wait a minute. I know.” 

John could hear him shifting from behind him and felt the need to brace himself when he felt the two goons grip tighten. Suddenly there was a sharp, hot, stinging pain that hit John on his lower left side of his back, forcing him to scream. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and that was the last thing John remembered before passing out. 

Moriarty pulled back the iron metal pod off of John’s skin and smiled at the new brand on his pet’s skin. He turned to one of the two goons, Gip if he recalls his name - _where does Sebby find these guys?_ – as he handed the man the pod. “Lay him down but keep his hands bound. If he awakes before I return come and get me.” 

Gip nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Before Moriarty had left to fetch his men he had only pulled on his trousers so now he turned and headed out of the room leaving his other clothes behind. He had more pressing matters to deal with. If John couldn’t get it through his head on the fact that there was no hope then he had to make him see it. The doctor started to break down when the lives of his friends were being threatened and maybe Gregory was the key. 

Moriarty headed into his room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door as he took a minute letting his mind drift to the events leading up till now. Everything had gone smoothly from the moment they had kidnapped everyone, to forcing John to see that he would have been far better off with being with a crazed psychopath then killing himself and John almost took the bait. Moriarty almost had him not to mention the Holmes brothers. To control their pets was to control them and since he still had the pets, he was going to make that point deliciously clear. He let out a dark chuckle knowing with what he had planned would take time but he knew it would be worth it. Pay backs truly were a bitch. He was going to let Sebby truly enjoy every moment of it too. So, with this in mind he was ever so excited that he still would be able to fuck with the Holmes Brother’s in the process. It was brilliant. 

With a sigh, he pealed himself off the door and made his way into his bathroom to turn on the water so he could take a shower. Pulling off his trousers, he moved slowly underneath the scolding hot spray, letting it wash over him and down his naked form. It felt incredible.  
When he was finished and had fully dried, Moriarty made his way over to his closet, grabbing out a light grey suit and put it on. He stepped in front of his full link mirror to make sure he looked the part of the evil genius mastermind once more before he headed back down to the cell where he was sure Moran and _his_ pet would still be. 

***** 

Greg laid there staring up at the ceiling sense there wasn't much else he could do. He was sweaty with the stench of sex all over him and God how he loathed it. However, in the back of his mind that little voice gnawed away at him - _This could have been John. It should have been John and that monster took him from you._

Greg felt horrible thinking about John like that and he made his emotions shift, letting his anger rise because he really did hope Moriarty hadn't hurt John. Well, Greg was one to talk but he was a cop so he knew he could get through this, right? _No, Mycroft had helped you through the first time, he helped you through this, and he will help you wants your together again,_ the voice reminded him and it was right. If it hadn't been for Mycroft words from before then he wouldn't have made it this far. The thought of his lover trying to find him set his mind a little at ease knowing the elder Holmes will be there for him again once they were found. 

However, he was unsure of what will transpire between Sherlock and John once they were reunited. Could they make it through this together trying to make it work or would they go back to the way they were before or would John leave? He doubted he could pick a side if John couldn't be with the consulting detective mainly because Greg would still use Sherlock for cases. But, John was his friend and a great man. He'd do anything for him and he was sure by now Moriarty knew that. 

Moran turned his head so his eyes met Greg’s. “I know your thinking about _him_ ,” he murmured. “It’s cute. I like you holding on to that little shred of hope.” 

>Greg was a little unsure of which _him_ that this lunatic was referring to so he just went with what would always be the main subject with these psychic men. “Because I know they will be coming. You’re boss has underestimated them too often and from what I have seen you boss loves Sherlock’s attention. It always comes back to him, you know that, right?” 

“Not always. He has a new pet after all,” Moran muttered. 

“Which belongs to who? All this has been about making Sherlock suffer. It always has been. If that maniac wants Sherlock dead then why continue these games?” Greg could see Moran’s wheels slowly turning in his mind. Moriarty might say he wants Sherlock dead but everything leading up to now suggests otherwise. 

“What are you getting at?” Moran huffed clearly getting a little annoyed. 

“He can’t kill Sherlock because he is in love with him,” Greg said surprised he said it out loud. He and Mycroft had many discussions about this very subject. How Sherlock had fascinated the criminal from the very beginning. He had kept the shoes for Christ sake just to make himself known like a secret admire would. It was odd and creepy but poetic. 

Moran sat up on his elbows as he looked down at him. “What? You’re full of shit. He wants Sherlock dead and if you recall he gave him a choice to either kill himself or the three people in his life he cares about would have died.” 

“Three?” Greg looked puzzled. He knew he cared for John and Miss Huston (he had thrown a man out of a window many times because of that) but who could possibly be the third? 

Moran smiled slightly as he raised an eye brow at the Inspector’s expression. “You mean you don’t know.” 

“Know what?” Greg scowled. 

“If Sherlock hadn’t of jumped of that roof top than John, that land lady of theirs and you would have died.” 

Greg’s eyes grew wide and hated the bemused look on the ginger’s face. Why wouldn’t have Mycroft said anything to him about that? He would have deemed it worthy enough and then he wondered if John knew that too. Probably not. The Holmes brothers liked their secrets but if they were going to be a couple and possibly a little more, he would demand to be kept in the loop on important information. _We are going to have a long talk when you get me out of this my love._

Suddenly they both jumped when the door opened and in walked a very well dressed monster. Greg shuddered when the criminal smiled wickedly at him. 

“I’m so glad you have enjoyed _your_ pet Sebby dear but we do have a little work to do.” 

Moran wanted to protest but he knew it would be a mistake to talk back to Jim. So, he turned towards Greg slowly he leaned in pressing his lips to the Inspector’s. Moran then slowly pulled back and untied Greg’s wrists so after they left he could move about freely. 

“Awe, that’s sweet but we are on a time schedule Sebby dear,” Moriarty had hissed. 

Moran really didn’t want to leave Greg. He was having too much fun with having something new like this. What could be so important that Jim would take him away from this? 

Greg sat up on his elbows and was glaring at Moriarty. Something wasn’t right with this picture. “Where’s John?” 

Moriarty smiled at him. “He’s having a little bit of a time out kitten but don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll see him soon enough.” Moriarty blew a kiss at Greg and turned heading out the door with Moran close on his heels. 

They walked down the hall in silence for a few moments before entering another room. It was set up with a lot of giant lights, a grey back ground, and a camera. Moran gave Jim a puzzled looked. 

“I just want to send a little message my dear. That’s all.” 

>Moran didn’t like the sound of that. Greg’s words began to puzzle around in his head like a hurricane. “Sir, I don’t think that is wise. What if he finds something he could use to help find them? We already have them so why must we pay any more mind to them?” 

“Because Sebby that is what I do. The Holmes brothers and I are far from over.”  
Moran opened his mouth but snapped it shut. Anything he would say on the matter wouldn’t be good for them. Greg was just filling his mind with nonsense and he had to keep reminded himself that’s all it was, nonsense. “What do you want me to do boss?” 

“I would like you to run the camera,” Moriarty purred seeing something behind Moran’s eyes he didn’t like seeing. He walked over to ginger man and wrapped his arms around his waist. He flipped out his bottom lip like he was pouting. “Please, for me?” 

Try as he might Moran could never say no to Jim and especially when he was being this damn cute. Moran put a hand on either on Jim’s cheeks and pulled him in for a gently kiss. He was pleased that Jim did not pull back from it and was excited to hear a low hum come from his boss. They stayed like that for several seconds before Moran pulled back.

Both were panting a little harder then normally and as they broke away from the other no words were exchanged. None needed to be. 

Moran made his way over to the camera and he delightedly watched Jim walk over to stand in front of the grey back ground. They smiled at one another before the red went on and Jim going from love struck teenage boy to murderous crazed criminal. He truly was a gifted actor.

Moran gave his boss the signal and Moriarty began to speak into the camera. 

"Oh, hello. Are you ready for the story?"

Moriarty paused as he smiled devilishly knowing Sherlock would be the only one to understand.

"Once upon a time there was a beautiful kingdom. The king was a proud man and a very good looking man too. Well, one day his two sons came to him asking which one of the two would be taking over the kingdom after he was gone. The king, who was so much smarter than his two sons, told them that they had to prove themselves worthy. They asked what they had to do in order to become worthy in his eyes but the king told them that they must learn that on their own.  
“Well time slowly went by when both sons returned with stories of their adventurers and their father, the king, was so proud of them. They asked once more who would be taking over the kingdom when he was gone and he told them that neither would ever be worthy enough sense they had learned nothing.  
“Outraged they tried to teach their father, the king, a lesson. So, they were going to have him killed and both sons would rule over the kingdom together. Well, try as they may, it had failed and their father, the king, sentenced them to die and he kept their treasures for himself. The end. Well, that was a nice story, wasn’t it kiddies? Now, goes to the victor, the spoils of war.” 

Moran hit the stop button and played it back so they could see. “That looks amazing boss.” 

“You really think so?” 

“Yeah I don’t think you need another take. Seems perfect.” 

Moran always loved it when Jim smiled at him that way. It almost looked genuine and who knows, maybe it was. 

“You always say what I need to hear Sebby dear.” 

“I only speak the truth as you relay on me to do sir,” Moran purred. 

Jim chuckled and was about to lean into him when came a rapping at the door. “What it is?” he snarled. 

At that moment Moran knew his boss was changed from his loving Jim back to the criminal mind of Moriarty and he was even more irritated then his boss. 

The door opened and the other big guy that had held down John was now standing in the doorway. _What was this ones name again? Was it Nat? Ah, hell._ “Sir, I believe the doctor is awake.” 

Moriarty narrowed his eyes at him. “What do you mean by you believe he is?” 

“Sir, I'm sorry," the big man began but to Moran he seemed like he was crumpalling when faced against Moriarty. "It's Gip sir. He had me step out of the room to fetch something to drink and when I came back the door was locked. I tried getting in but anything I've tried has been unsuccessful.” 

Moriarty looked outraged, Moran noted, knowing this wasn't going to be good for Gip. He and Moran rushed out the door and headed for John’s room without another moment to spare. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end isn't what you think it is. That's all I'm saying.  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck was happening and what the hell was Gip talking about, John wondered. Nothing was making sense to him and right now everything seemed like it was going from bad to worst with every turn he made. He just wanted to be as far away from here as possible. Hopefully, someone was going to come to their aid and soon because he had no idea how much more he could take before he broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys that this got deleted but here is the next chapter to make up for that.

Gip waited only a minute or two after Moriarty had left before he turned to the other man known as Nate and said, "Hey, Nate man. Wanna get us some beers?"

Nate furrowed his brow as he asked, "But, what if the doc wakes? Boss said to come get him straight away if he does."

Gip laughed. "The boss burned the poor bastered. I seriously doubt he is gonna wake anytime soon."

Nate hesitated then nodded. "Okay then." Nate turned and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a flash." Then he was gone.

Gip rushed over to the door, locked it, and pulled a dresser in front of the door. He smiled to himself, satisfied that he was alone with the good doctor and no one could interrupt them now. Quickly he looked around the room and saw that there were no hidden cameras in the room. Surprised but pleased Gip walked with stride over towards the bed and rolled John over onto his back keeping the doctor’s hands bound behind him. It would be uncomfortable and possible hurt him but Gip wasn’t going for keeping the good doctor comfy. He then turned and headed into the bathroom grabbing a cup of water. He walked back out and poured in over John's face forcing him to gasp as he woke.

“Wakey, wakey, Doc,” Gip chirped.

John was coughing, trying to catch his breath from the water that had gone up his nose. He shook his head trying to get rid of the foggy haze to be able to focus. What he saw next unnerved him. Looming over him with a very big smile on his face was a very tall and very well built bald guy with tattoos all the way down either arm. John shuddered as he felt an urge to shut his eyes again wishing he was back in dreamland since that was the only way he felt like he would ever see Sherlock again.

“Hello, Doctor Watson,” the bald man said. His green eyes traveling over John’s body as he spoke.

John didn’t know what was happening. The last thing he remembered was Moriarty fucking him and then pain but nothing else. Who the hell was this guy and where was Moriarty?

“Mr. Moriarty had more pressing matters to attend too little one and that means more time for us.”

 _What the fuck was that suppose to mean?_ John found himself wanting to say but the words would not form and his mouth felt like it had gone dry.

Gip took out his cell phone. “Hold still,” he murmured as he began to snap a few pictures of John before hitting a few buttons and placing it back into his pocket.

“What the hell was that for?” John asked with a hint of announce and fear in his tone.

Gip slowly made his way over to stand beside the bed. “All in due time little one but now it’s us time.”Gip reached out a hand towards John’s stomach forcing him to flinch away which made him scream out in pain. John’s bound hands hit the wound on his lower back which triggered the memory before he passed out because John now remembers the stench of burning flesh. Moriarty had burned him. _No, he had branded you._ John growled at the voice but came out of his thoughts when the hand was now kneading his left nipple forcing his back to arch into the unwanted touch.

“Oh, you are sensitive little one, aren’t ya? I like that.”

John was truly confused and a little afraid. He tried clearing his throat and managed to find his voice again and hated how weak he sounded. “Who…Who are you? Where is…” John was cut off by the man pinching his nipple even harder forcing a whimper from John’s lips.

“Who I am is not important Doctor Watson but who I work for is. Did you know since the moment you moved in with Mr. Holmes that you have become one of the most wanted men amongst the criminal world? There are so many out there that would love to make the Holmes brothers suffer or to mold them at their will and you are just the right pressure point in order to do so.”

John tried to narrow his eyes or to look angry but failed horribly. “Why?” That was all he could manage.

“You mean something to _him_ little one and that means you are the number one target for all.”

The man was now using both hands to attack John’s nipples and it was making it hard for John to think straight. He wanted to try and think of who else would want him besides the madman he was with now. Sherlock was one for pissing people off but to have someone who would want to kidnap him from another known psychopath made him cringe. Suddenly Gip was twisting and kneading John’s nipples more fiercely into his fingers making John feel ashamed how good it felt and how his member was starting to come to life once more. “Please, I don’t want…”

“Oh, yes you do, Doctor Watson. Look at yourself. You’re feeling a sort of rush because this is exciting to you. The prick never lies, doc. It’s okay to be excited. I won’t tell. I mean it's not every day one would learn of a new player in the game that has their sights for you and I mean why wouldn’t they? You’re fucking gorgeous.” Gip bent down, moving his lips towards John’s growing erection while his hands kept playing with his nipples.

“Ooh, Christ!” John hissed. _Why was this guy doing this? Did he have a death wish?_  
Gip took John’s full length into his mouth making sure to let John feel that he touched the back of his throat before pulling back. He kept this up for a few moments before pulling back and using his hand to stroke his member. “They know you’re here sexy. The question stands with what they will do with that information."

John was panting hard. His eyes were shut and his body shook slightly. It took him a moment for his mind to register what the man was saying to him. “What do you mean by they?”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you that but if you want to get out of this then you will keep your mouth shut about it too, my lovely. I’m sure you and that DI really want to get out of here, yes?”

John nodded as he kept panting harder with the man’s every stroke. He felt himself growing close.

“Then keep your mouth shut about the pictures and that I told you any of this. You can’t tell anyone. Not even the DI. Moriarty doesn’t have this room bugged but after this he will.”

“But, if you’re not working for Moriarty or even the government then who are you…” John’s words were interrupted when came a rapping on the door.

“Hey, Gip. Let me in, would ya? Something seems to be wrong with the door.”

Gip smiled wickedly as he kept stroking John’s cock. “I’m a little busy at the moment, Nate. Maybe you should come back in a few minutes?"

There was a pause.

“Gip, open the damn door!” Nate growled from behind the door.

“Sorry, bud. Like I said I’m a little busy.” Gip moved his mouth back down towards John’s cock and began to deep throat him.

“Ooh, fuck!” John groaned loudly.

Nate began to bang on the door. “Gip man, what the hell are you doing? Gip?”

The sounds of moans and grunts were the only sounds coming out of John at this point as Gip was bringing him to the brim of his orgasm.

There was more banging with Nate shouting to let him in and after a few more seconds all was silent.

“Christ! Fuck! I’m going too…” John didn’t even get to finish his sentence before closing his eye shut as his body tightened while load after load his milky white seed began to shoot down Gip’s throat.

Gip pulled back, smiling big at John. “If I have to be grateful for one thing before I die, I’m glad I got to give Doctor John Watson a blow job.”

John was panting still, enjoying the after effects of his orgasm of the tingling sensation that traveled all over his body. It had felt incredible and he was kind of glad it happened. But, then he focused back on the bald man’s words again and asked, “What do you mean before you die?”

Suddenly they both jumped at the sound of a gun being fired from the other side of the door.

“Who sent you?” John quickly whispered.

“Someone who had a hunch and I am glad to say they were right,” Gip murmured as he stood up straighter. “Do me a favor. I want you to act slightly traumatized from this.”

There was more banging on the door forcing the dresser to rock. “Why?” John asked seeming curious.

“He will be easier on you if you do,” Gip said right before the door was kicked opened and a very outraged Moriarty came storming into the room with gun in hand.

Gip put up his hands and quickly back away from the bed. “Sir, if I may…”

Moriarty fired his gun hitting Gip square between the eyes. John’s eyes grew wide in shock as he watched the body fall to the ground. _Oh, Christ! Oh, fuck!_ He couldn’t believe it. Moriarty had killed him without hesitation and he wanted to know why. What John was even more curious about was how did Gip know he was going to die? It didn’t make sense.

Suddenly, Moriarty was at John’s side and was checking him over from head to toe. “Are you alright Johnny?” Moriarty asked with a hint of…wait was there concern in the madman’s tone?

 _“Act slightly traumatized. He will be easier on you if you do,”_ Gip had said and John wasn’t one to disappoint.

“I…I think so,” John stammered weakly.

Moriarty looked from John’s freshly cum covered cock towards his face. He studied the doctor’s face a moment before he asked, “What happened?”

“He…he was saying how sexy I was and how…how you shouldn't be the only one with a new toys to play with.” _God, please let me believable!_

Moriarty reached out his hand and gently run his finger tips from John's cheek down to his neck. Moriarty smiled softly at him. “Is that all he had said my love?”

John slowly nodded. “Yes, that is all,” John murmured.

Moriarty pulled his hand away. His expression changed again from concern to disappointment, like a parent looking down at their child for doing something bad that would earn them a spanking.

“You truly are a bad liar Johnny and damn it, you know I hate liars.” Moriarty flipped John over onto his stomach and began to slap John across his arse with his open hand.

John screamed while he bucked trying to do what he could to get him to stop. “Please, Jim! I’m not lying! You must believe…”

Moriarty grabbed a hand full of John’s sandy hair and pulled back as hard as he could. “Why are you still lying to me? Do you like being punished?”

“I swear to you Jim that I’m not,” John shouted. _How does he know I am lying?_

Moriarty slapped his arse once more. “Stop lying to me you little shit! No, one can hide it from me! Not when I’ve taken their pulse!”

It was like a light bulb had flipped on. John realized when Jim moved his finger tips from his cheek down to his neck that that's what the madman was doing. It was a Sherlock kind of move and one that John should have seen coming. _Damn it!_

Moriarty jerked John’s head forward as he let loose of this hair forcing John to fall back down to the bed. To scared to move John wondered what the hell the madman was going to do now?

“Sebby dear, be a peach and go fetch the Inspector and take him to room 2B for me.”

“Do you want me to do anything special with him?” Moran asked curiously as to where the new plan of his boss’s was going.

“Strap him to the metal table. We are going to finish our little game we started back at the warehouse before we were so rudely interrupted.”  
John felt his blood run cold. “No! You can’t do that! Please Jim!”

“You lied to me Johnny boy and you refuse to tell me what he told you. I thought you were smarter than that but I guess you’re just like all the rest. Ordinary and predicable.” Moriarty said trying to sound bored but in truth was really irritated.

“If I was _ordinary_ you wouldn’t have me here,” John snarled, now regretting he said that out loud.

Moriarty reached out a hand and gently rubbed John’s arse. “I’m going to have Gregory tortured while you watch,” he spoke as if he was discussing the weather.

John winced. He didn’t want this but there was nothing he could do now to stop it. What the fuck had happened anyway? The big guy took some pictures and sent them to someone but who? He talked about someone else who had their sights for him. Would they help to get him and Greg out of here? If so then what would happen after that? The big guy had mentioned something about whoever had their sights on him would be another criminal or that's what he understood. Would he be any safer with another criminal? The question made John’s head hurt mainly because the guy had gotten past Moriarty's security with flying colors. That thought made John cringe because he knew he wouldn’t be safe. Not until he was back with Sherlock and even then he was a little unsure.

Suddenly a pair of rough hands grabbed hold of him and pulled him to the edge of the bed. They helped him into a sitting position then helped him to his feet. It was another big guy that John recognized from before when taken them to the dining room for dinner.  
Moriarty stepped forward so his body was pressed against John's and his face was blank. "What else did he tell you?”

John looked back into Moriarty’s eyes. Without turning his gaze away or without blinking John said, “I told you what he said Jim.”

Neither spoke for a moment. They just stood there in silence staring the other down.

 _Do something!_ The little voice shouted in John’s mind. So he did the only thing he could do. John leaned forward and began to kiss Moriarty lightly on the lips. Moriarty was still, unresponsive to John’s lips so he reached out his tongue towards Moriarty’s lips probing lightly. To his delight Moriarty parted his lips slightly and John took it as an invitation to enter. John’s tongue was slowly exploring Moriarty’s mouth and found his tongue and twisted his own around the madman’s. Moriarty began to move his own tongue and John hummed deep in the back of his throat letting the madman know he was happy with his compliance. They closed their eyes lost in the moment of the kiss and when John felt Moriarty’s hands start to snake around his waist John yelped as he pulled back away from Moriarty’s grasp.

Moriarty looked angry and a little hurt which made John begin to panic. “I’m sorry. You just touched something on my back and it hurt.”

Moriarty’s expression lightens slightly but he still hated that his pet pulled away from him. “Let’s not keep the others waiting.” Moriarty walked over to the dresser that had blocked the door before and pulled out a fresh pair of pants. He helped John into them and they headed out the door and down to room 2B.

*****

Moran shoved Greg into room 2B and smiled when he saw Greg's body tense as he noticed the metal table in the room. "Up on the table my sweet."

Greg spun and glared at Moran. "Sod that," he hissed. “You’d have to force me.” 

The smile stretched wider across the gingers face. He shrugged as he walked towards Greg, his eyes flickering with delight. "Hard way it is then."

Greg had no time to react when Moran tackled him down to the cement floor. It knocked the wind out of Greg momentarily which gave a slight upper hand for Moran to begin to straddle Greg's hips but before Moran was fully on top of him Greg flipped over onto his stomach. Greg stabled his hands and pushed back until he was up onto his hands and knees. Moran was not expecting this much flight left in his pet after he had fucked the DI earlier and was surprised when Greg pushed back so hard that it forced Moran to fall back with Greg on top of him. Greg spun and now was straddling the lunatic and began to punch Moran in any spot he could find opened.

Suddenly Greg felt something metal being pressed against his forehead. He slowly looked up and was surprised to see Moriarty was holding the gun. "Let's not make Daddy angry." 

Greg froze. His gaze focused Moriarty because he was too afraid to turn away from the madman.

“Be a good little kitten and get up on the table,” Moriarty said in a dangerous low growl. 

Greg was still frozen for a few more moments before his legs finally began to listen to his brain telling himself he needed to move. Once on his feet he could see John standing behind the madman and the look on John’s face made Greg weary on what was about to happen. 

Moriarty motioned with his gun from Greg to the table and said, “Off your pop.” 

Greg sighed as he turned and walked over towards the metal table. He really didn’t want to do this but he had no choice in the matter. 

“Sebby dear, be a lamb and help him,” Moriarty cooed. 

Moran slowly stood to his feet. The limp he had before was more pronounced now than he had been before.

 _More than likely because of the struggle,_ John thought.

Greg turned and hopped up on the table with Moran now forcing him to lay back. Once Greg was in place Moran began to strap him limps down to the table so he couldn’t fight back. 

Moran turned and smiled at Moriarty and said, “All ready sir.”

Moriarty nodded and turned towards John. “I want you over on the metal chair love.” 

John did know what was going to happen and he really wished he could stop it. “Jim is there anything I can do to make you see that I do care.” 

Moriarty leaned in close and the fire John saw in the psychopath’s eyes truly unnerved him. “Sorry Johnny. You had your chance and now this is what is going to happen. You’re going to sit over in that chair and you’re not allowed to speak nor are you allowed to look up. If you do I will cut off one of his limbs and right now I don’t even care which one. Do you understand?” 

John nodded as he slowly let out a shaky breath. 

Moriarty smiled. “Good boy. Now, off your pop my love.” 

John began to slowly walk towards the chair and realized that his limp had returned in full force. It hurt him like hell and the walk seemed so far from where he stood to the chair Moriarty demanded him to sit in. When he finally made it he turned his back and suddenly turned towards the gasp noise that Greg had made. 

“What the fuck did you do to him you bastared?” Greg snarled at Moriarty. 

Moriarty smiled wickedly. “He still doesn’t get the fact of he belongs to me. Just like you do too kitten.” 

“We are not your bloody property you maniac,” Greg hissed clearly irritated. 

Moriarty slowly made his way over towards the table. He looked down at Greg as he said, “Yes, you are and I will mark you too when this game is over with.” 

Greg glared at him. “Piss off.” 

“Still so much fight left in you. It is delicious but I am afraid after this little game you might think a little differently.” Moriarty walked back over towards John who was now sitting in the chair. He walked behind him and proceeded to tie his hands behind his back. When that was done he moved so he was standing in view of both Greg and John and said, “We are going to continue our little game kids but at the same time we are going to video tape it.” 

“Why?” John blurt out before he could stop himself. 

“Why do you think?” Moriarty mused. 

“You’re going to send it to them but why? You already have us. Why would you want to send him anything?” John asked clearly annoyed that Moriarty would do this to his Sherlock. _Where the fuck did that come from?_

“Oh, this is your punishment my dear sweet little boy. You refuse to tell me anything more so you must pay the price. I’m just excited we didn’t get to the last two tortures back at this warehouse.” Moriarty giggled like a five year old child who had just been given the gift he had always wanted. 

“You’re mad and…” John was silenced when Moriarty back handed him across the face. 

Moriarty then leaned forward and whispered into the doctor’s ear. “No more talking love. This is happening and it’s happening because of you. Remember that.” Moriarty stood back up and made his way over towards Greg. “Sebby dear can you get me that hammer over on the table for me please?” 

Moran did as he was told and grabbed it. He limped it over to Moriarty and snarled down at Greg as he turned and walked back over to the camera that he was setting up on at tripod. 

“Now, kitten there will be no looking at the camera unless I address you to do so. Do you understand?”

Greg wanted to tell him to piss off but with that hammer lying next to his arm now he wasn’t sure it would be wise. He simply nodded and said, “Yes, I understand.” How he wanted to punch Moriarty in the mouth.

“Good boy,” Moriarty purred as he turned and walked over towards Moran. “Are we almost ready Sebby dear?” 

“Yeah, whenever you’re ready boss.” 

“Excellent,” Moriarty said as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s begin,” Moriarty cooed. 

Moran turned on the camera and motioned for his boss to pick his cue to enter. Moriarty slowly walked into view and pointed towards the camera. “Say hello to your lover kitten.”

Greg glared at Moriarty curious on why the madman was doing this. But, then again they were dealing with a psychopath. “Piss off,” he spat.

Moriarty sighed as he lifted a hammer into view and raced it down towards Greg’s forearm, forcing the Inspector to wail. He was curious on what Mycroft’s reaction would be to this and the thought made him all tingly inside. “Once again kitten, say hello to your lover.”

Greg didn’t want too. He didn’t want Mycroft to see him so weak like this. God he felt worthless. Would Mycroft even want him after seeing this? He turned his head towards the camera. Tears were running down his cheeks as he chocked out, “Hello, My…”

Moriarty hit his forearm a second time forcing another scream out of the Inspector’s mouth and was giggling inside knowing this really would kill the Iceman. “Not like that kitten. You did say you loved him after all.”

Greg’s eyes were squeezed shut. _Please, Mycroft save us!_ He took a few deep breaths before he once again looked at the camera, trying to keep his composer as best he could. “Hello my love. I miss you.”

“There’s a good boy,” Moriarty purred. He set the hammer down on the side of the table and then moved his hand over Greg’s chest. “Now, it’s time to continue our game, don’t ya think? It’s only right after all and since I don’t have dear sweet little Molly I guess you will be getting both tortures.”

Moriarty could only image the look on dear sweet little Molly’s face of one of pure horror. Part of him wanted Moran to have picked her for this. Something deep down in Moriarty’s mind told him that Molly was something the eyes were not seeing. She could be deadly if she chose to be just like John and the DI. But, in the end he was glad to have the DI because he was turning out to be something special himself. With that in mind, Moriarty turned and began to walk away from Greg, Moran slowly followed him with the camera as he did so. 

“Hello, my love,” Moriarty cooed, kneeling down in front of John. He ran a hand over John’s knee making John jump from the contact. “Oh, baby, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.”

John wanted to rip Moriarty’s hand off of him but he couldn’t with his hands bound. He wanted to show that he wasn’t completely gone but he dare not look up at the camera. How could he get a message to Sherlock? This was his only chance. So, he had to do something, didn’t he? 

“Johnny boy, I need you to choose pet. Will it be the little medical bag or the water?”

John’s head was hung low and his eyes closed tight. He wanted to look broken but he had to get a message to out. What could he do?

“I will choose for you if you don’t my love and if I do it will be ten times worse for him,” Moriarty said with a smile in his voice.

John looked up slowly as he squinted his eyes like the light was hurting him and proceeded to blink the soreness in his eyes away. When Moriarty seemed to be getting a little more irritated for him taking too long to answer, finally John mumbled something under his breath that only Moriarty could hear.

“Ah, yes, good choice my love,” Moriarty stood and walked back over to Greg. “Well, kitten, it seems Johnny boy choose the water. Do you know what water is used for when a captor uses it to torture ones victims?”

Greg didn’t want to answer him because he knew what water was used for and the way he was laying on the table he knew now what was coming. But, he also knew if he didn’t answer then Moriarty would get annoyed enough to use the hammer again and he wasn’t for sure he wanted Mycroft to see him like that once more. Finally Greg said, “Chinese water torture.”

“Good. Very good kitten. Clever little Inspector you are. Now, do you want to receive the torture or do you want Johnny boy too and I promise if you want the torture this time then you will get it. I will not trick you this time, alright?”

 _Christ!_ “Me,” Greg said without any hesitation in his voice.

Moriarty chuckled. “I had a feeling you would. Now, I believe it’s about time that Sebby paid you back for that little mishap, yes?”

Moran made sure the camera would remain still sitting on its tripod and stepped into the view of the camera as he limped his way over towards Greg. He was sure that the Holmes brothers might be smiling at the fact of him being injured but he knew wants he laid a towel over Greg’s face all everything would change. Greg began to shake his head from side to side, trying to get the towel off and Moran knew with watching this that the Holmes brothers smiles would vanish wants he tied a rope around the back of the DI’s head to make sure it was scurried. It brought satisfaction to Moran knowing that the Holmes brothers could only watch and would feel that helplessness and pain because they can’t save their beloved pets. It was a power play and one that he loved his boss playing. Moran proceeded to bend down and pick up a melt bucket, pouring it over Greg’s covered face. Greg thrashed, holding back his cries of dread.

Moriarty walked around the table and came to stand in front of the camera with a wild smile on his face. “It’s been a rough few days but as you can see I’m slowly breaking them in. I do hope it will be a low slow process though. It’s so much better when they are still clinging to that little shred of hope that you will be coming to their rescue.” Moriarty let out a crazed laugh that he knew would send chills through them. “Well, I guess that’s it for this episode for Daddy Moriarty’s Grim Tales. Tune in next time to see what is in store. I’m sure it will be a real scream.” Moriarty paused for a moment and lifted something into view an apple that the other henchman had fetched for him. His heart skipped a beat knowing only Sherlock would get this. _A little something just for you._ Moriarty turned it just right so the camera would capture the I.O.U on the side of the apple and he let out a chuckle as he purred, “Chow.” He took a bite out of the apple and slowly reached out with his other hand and hit stop button on the camera. He turned and said, “Well, that went better than expected.” 

Moran paused a moment and looked up at his boss. “Indeed it did.” Moran picked up a second bucket and poured it over Greg’s covered face. Greg was chocking and coughing from underneath the towel. 

“Please no more,” John began to plead. “I’ll do anything you ask. Please, just let him be!”

Moriarty stared at John for a moment. Something was turning John could see, in that crazed mind of that monster. 

Finally after a moment Moriarty said, “Sebby take them back to John’s room and then meet me in my office. I want to get that video sent as soon as possible.”

Moran sighed. “Yes, sir.” 

Moriarty stared at John for another moment or two before he turned and disappeared from the room. John was curious what the hell that was all about and if he should be worried that maybe the crazed criminal did know a little more then he let on. For his sake and for Greg’s he hoped not but only time would tell.

*****

When Moran had taken John and Greg back to John’s room and warned them on if they didn’t anything stupid then there would be consequences. Not like they didn’t already know that but it never hurts to have a reminder. So now Moran made his way to his boss’s office as he walked in he saw Jim sitting behind his desk with a displeased look on his face. 

“You alright boss?” Moran asked concerned. 

“I just don’t know Seb. What am I doing wrong? I’ve done everything, haven’t I? Why won’t he say my name?” 

Moran wanted to tell Jim to forget this whole thing but he knew he couldn’t do that. Something looked different about Jim as he asked the question. _Was he starting to have feelings towards the good doctor?_ Moran began to wonder what length Jim would go to in order to keep his pet. Hell, Moran was starting to get use to having Greg around but if he had to kill him he would, wouldn’t he? “Sir you can’t rush this. He was almost yours because he thought Sherlock was dead. Right now he has restored hope sense he knows he is alive. We need to take that away from him again.” 

Moriarty nodded. “You’re right Seb. You’re always right.” Moriarty turned towards the dvd that was lying on the edge of his desk. It was completed now and ready to be sent to the Holmes brothers but he started to question if he should. He picked up the dvd and stared at it wondering if that is really what he wanted. _I have them all to myself. I don’t have to do this._

Moran reached forward and took the dvd out of Moriarty’s hand. “We both know you need too. It’s what you’re all about and I am sure they will be expecting something from you. Besides it some of your brilliant talent and I want them to see you.” 

Moriarty smiled. “Thank you Seb. I knew you would do the right thing.” 

Moran turned and started to head for the door when a hand grabbed his arm and spun him back around. Their bodies were just inches apart. 

Moriarty licked at Moran’s licks as he purred, “Hurry back and maybe we can have a little fun with them together. Would you like that?” 

Moran breath was caught in his throat. “I’d love that,” he managed after a few seconds. 

“Good,” Moriarty cooed as he leaned forward and kissed Moran in a deep passionate kiss. They stayed like that for what it seemed like forever before Moriarty pulled back and whispered, “Now, go.” He swatted Moran’s arse to usher him towards the door. Moran smiled back at him and before he turned and left. 

Moriarty returned back to his desk and pulled up the camera’s that were displayed throughout his home. He brought up the three that were now in John’s room and smiled as he saw the two sitting down on the bed with their back against the wall. “Oh, how sweet,” Moriarty said out loud to himself, “I do hope you take the time now my little dears. I’d truly love to watch the show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed and leave lots of comments. I miss all my comments so please let me know what you think. Thanks again for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t know what I want other than I just want to feel wanted.” - John Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is one of my chapters that got a little emotional again. I will go back over it little later and might add a few things but here it is for now. I hope you enjoy.

The first thing John noticed after the door was closed and locked from the outside, Gip’s body and blood were gone. The second was that everything had been cleaned up from top to bottom and put back in its rightful place like nothing had ever happened. It was eerie to say the least but he would heed Gip’s warning and mention nothing. John held Greg with one arm around his back and the other was holding onto the DI's wrist since his arm was over his shoulder to keep him balanced.

Greg stole a sideways glance at John and was taken back how calm the doctor was as he helped him over to a large bed. It was remarkable to him how John could stay so calm and focused under dangerous situations and was curious if that wasn't a small reason Sherlock liked having the good doctor around. If it be up to Greg, he would have made John a cop. That thought made Greg smile.

John sat the DI down and gently guided him so his back was up against the head board as request. “Did you want me to see if I could get anything for you?” John asked rubbing the back of his head because he was unsure if he could but he knew it never hurt to ask. 

“No, I’m alright,” Greg muttered. “But, would like it for you to possibly sit next to me if…if that’s alright that is.”

John nodded giving him a smile. “Of course,” he said as he moved around to the other side of the bed and climbed on. He was now sitting next to Greg in almost the same fashion just like they had been in the other room. However, he flinched when he touched his back to the wall because of the wound on his back. He wanted to asked Greg about it but didn't want to bring up the unsavory topic of Moriarty branding him as he his own pet. Maybe he really didn't want to know what it said. Not right now anyway. Instead he was going to focus on the man sitting beside that he truly called friend.

“Do you think Sherlock will be able to find us with that dvd?” Greg asked sounding weary. 

John didn’t want to say anything because he was sure the room was bugged and possibly had cameras installed now while Moriarty was torturing them. “I don’t know,” John said surprised how sincere his words sounded. He almost believed it himself but he knew better. Sherlock would see it because he had too. He was their only hope. 

Greg let out a low sigh which turned into a slight cough. His lungs still felt like they were on fire from the torture he was put through.

“Do you want me to get you some water perhaps?” John asked feeling at a loss of what more he could do to help his friend. 

Greg smiled slightly as he replied, “I think I’ve had enough water for one day, don’t you?” 

John caught the smile on Greg’s face and felt himself relax a little, his blue eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I guess you have.” John didn’t know what it was about the DI that made him feel so at ease but he was glad he did. If it were anyone else then this moment wouldn’t feel as warm and inviting as it felt right now. 

“John, please know what that maniac did wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for any of this. I don’t really blame anyone but that psychopath. He is the one that has acted and has us trapped here. He is evil and he must be stopped.” 

John nodded but something in his eyes flickered. Was he having a moment of doubt? Did he do the right thing? Would Sherlock find them and if so could he and Sherlock make it work? But, it seemed that Moriarty might never stopped if they were rescued. Would Moriarty capture him again? Thinking back to the madman’s words back at the warehouse John had a feeling Moriarty was truly sincere about keeping him. That little voice that he heard back at the warehouse still whispered, _give in,_ and it made John question so much. He let out a shaky breath as he asked, “Greg, what if Sherlock can’t find us?” 

Greg stared at him for a moment. He didn’t know what to think about that. All he could think about was being in Mycroft’s arms again and lying on the elder Holmes chest as he listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beat while breathing in is scent as he watched his lover sleep. It was a breathtaking sight and one that only Greg was privilege enough to behold. He would never give up on that. “I can’t think like that John. For one I am a cop. I always have to try and figure a way out a situation and two, I love Mycroft. To never see him again or to hold him would be the worst for me. Don’t you feel the same about Sherlock?” 

John didn’t know how to respond to that. Before watching his friend the man he secretly loved fall to his death, yes he felt that way. John would have never even thought of given up hope but Sherlock had let him think for two long painful years that he was dead. _Only one word._ He growled through his mind. It hurt him more than anything. “Sherlock was dead Greg and that meant to me so was my life. I was worthless once more. Everything I was, he had made me and then he took it all away. How can I trust a man who throws everything away like that? I was so alone." John's hands formed into fists and slammed them against the bed. "That no good selfish bastard!” John yelled as he moved off the bed and began to pace the floor on his side of the bed. 

Greg watched him for a moment. He knew John cared for Sherlock but watching him stewing over this, the rage building up inside of him, Greg knew he had to say something or John would always feel like Sherlock betrayed him. “I don’t disagree with you in the slightly John, however, Sherlock did what he had to do in order to save our lives,” Greg muttered. 

John stopped and looked towards the DI. His body language read soldier (arms back as he stood tall) as he spat, “What are you saying? That Sherlock had no choice?” 

Greg nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Moriarty gave him an ultimatum. Either Sherlock had to jump or Mrs. Hudson, myself, and you would have been killed under the orders of that psychopath.” 

John slowly sank down to the bed, staring in shock and disbelief as he asked, “Who…who told you this?” 

“Moran told me right after he had…” Greg felt his words catch in his throat as he turned his gaze from John’s. He was sure John knew what that bastard had done but it was still hard to say out loud. 

John crawled his way back up the bed to sit beside Greg. He placed a hand on Greg’s knee as he said, “I’m not sure what will happen when faced with Sherlock again but one thing I do know is that I always be there for you and I always want you to be a part of my life. You are my friend Greg and I care about you a great deal.” 

Greg smiled softly. He placed his hand on the back of John’s as he looked into those ocean blues that were staring back at him. Greg felt the heat rising up in his manhood. He still wanted this man but after what they gone through he doubted John would. “The feeling is mutual.” Greg felt himself biting at his bottom lip unsure if he should or not.

John felt the heat in his cheeks blossom with the way the DI was staring at him. He felt frozen in place unsure of what to say because he could see the hunger behind his friends eyes.

 _To hell with it._ Greg slowly leaned forward and was pleased when John was leaning in towards him. Their lips pressed together in a gentle kiss, their eyes fluttering closed. 

_My John,_ was suddenly growled throughout John’s mind and he pulled back. This time the voice wasn’t Sherlock’s and it made John cringe. 

“Oh, shit John. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry…” Greg began but John silenced him by placing a finger to his lips. 

 

“No, it’s not you. It’s me. I’ve just been here too long,” John whispered hoping Moriarty couldn’t get much of what he was saying. “To many mind games.” 

“Can I do anything to help?” Greg asked. 

John thought for a moment and before Greg could say anything more John pressed his lips to Greg’s once more. He wanted Greg and he knew that the DI wanted him too and if they weren’t in this position they might never have acted upon this urge. John began to push Greg back but he pushed John back to break their kiss so he could speak. 

“John I don’t think I can let you.” 

John frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I don’t want to rush or anything…” John said backing away but Greg stopped him and pulled him back towards him. 

“That’s not what I meant. Moran kind of hurt me. He was to rough and I don’t think I can be fucked so soon again.” Greg felt himself blush; the heat was coming off of him in waves. 

John smiled softly. “Say no more,” he said as he moved onto his back and began to push down his pants. 

Greg shot out a hand towards John’s to stop him. “Let me do that?”

John nodded and put his hand up behind his head. 

Greg smiled big and thought how gorgeous the good doctor looked right now. How he wished he had a camera. No, doubt Moriarty would be filming this somehow and the thought didn’t make Greg care in the slightest. He had John all to himself. _Christ, it seems everyone wants a piece of you but only a few get to taste._ With that in mind Greg moved so now he was on his knees on the foot of the bed. He began to pull John’s pants slowly down his hips, inch by inch, enjoying the moment of control. 

“Oh, for fuck sake Greg. Don’t fucking tease me.” John huffed. 

Greg chuckled. “Sorry mate. It’s been while since anyone has let me do this to them.” 

“What? You mean being in control?” John asked. 

“Well, yeah. Mycroft is the dominant one. He loves to tell people what to do.” 

“Even in bed?” John asked sounding surprised. 

“Yes, and sometimes it drives me crazy. He likes to try new things but only the new things he sees or reads about. I don’t mind it but I just wish that I could be the one to give him a good spanking sometime.” 

John chuckled. “Well, maybe that will happen.”

“Oh, I think it might very soon,” Greg purred and he pulled John’s pants all the way off revealing John’s stiffing erection. Greg couldn’t helped himself. He moved enough so he could lean down and take John’s cock into his hot wet mouth, slowly moving down his staff while humming lightly. 

John’s fists tighten into the sheets as he let out a small whimper of pleasure while his eyes fluttered closed. “Oh, Christ that good.” 

Greg hummed again and was enjoying the shiver he was giving to John throughout his body. _You haven’t seen anything yet._ Greg pulled back enough that the tip of John’s cock was still in his mouth. With the tip of his tongue he began to probe at the good doctor’s frenulum which forced John’s hips to buck upwards forcing his cock down Greg’s throat. Greg smiled and repeated the act liking how John bucked under his touch. _Maybe once won’t be enough._

John’s head was swimming. Greg was just a little older than him and god did he know what he was doing. It felt incredible. More so then he previously imaged. “Fuck,” John chocked out with another moan of pleasure. 

Greg let out a moan as he pulled back until John’s cock made a “pop” sound as it fell out of his mouth. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it but unless we have some kind of lube I can’t do what I would like to do too you.” 

John frantically looked around the room. The bottle he saw Moriarty pick up before was put back on dresser in the same spot it had. John pointed over to it. “There,” John said as he began to move. “I can get…” 

Greg placed a hand on his chest. “I’m fine now. Let me get it.” 

John nodded and watched as Greg stood and walked over towards the bottle picking it up. Before he climbed back on the bed Greg stripped off his pants and winked at him. John’s breath hitched in his throat at the size of the DI cock but wasn’t afraid it wouldn’t hurt him. He trust Greg and knew Greg could trust him too. 

Greg slowly climbed back onto the bed and took his place wants more between John’s legs. He opened the cap and squirted some of the gel onto his fingers. Mixing it well he moved his hand down towards John’s arse and began to massage his fingers on John’s entrance before slipping a finger inside. He then proceeds to move his mouth back around John’s cock, moving slowly up and down his staff. 

John whimpered softly with a slight buck of his hips. “Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck yes.” 

Greg was slowly moving his finger in and out while slowly moving his lips up and down his staff for a few minutes more before he added a second finger. John’s body shook and Greg felt pleased how well John’s body responded to being fucked. _No wondered your at the top of the list. You're perfect because you're a good man but deadly. You have a warm heart and you care so deeply but if someone fucks with your loved ones then their screwed. Sherlock has made you that man because he is the one that shows no heart. You are his heart and you both died because of that monster. Now, look. You know he is alive and I’ve never seen you like this. This isn’t for me and it never will be. But, I can live with that._

Greg hummed softly enjoying how John shivered under his touch. He slid a third finger inside and began to slowly scissor him open. John still clawed at the bed sheets as he moved his hips slightly trying to get the fullness and pleasure he was looking for. Greg noticed and smiled. “Are you ready?” 

John’s ocean blue eyes met that of a field of green. Their pupils blow wide craving the other with need. “Yes,” John ordered like a captain to his cadet. 

Greg’s smile widen. “Yes, sir,” came his reply as he slipped out his fingers. Greg grabbed hold of his cock and pressed it to John’s entrance. Slowly he began to push watching John’s face twist with discomfort and pleasure. When Greg was all the way in he waited a moment before he asked, “Alright?” 

John looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, now move already.” 

Greg chuckled and slowly began to move his hips by pulling back and thrusting slowly back in forcing John to groan. He did this for several strokes before John began to sound frustrated again. That’s when Greg decided to twist himself enough that now he was hitting John’s prostate. 

“FUCK!” John yelled tightening himself around Greg’s cock. After a moment John relaxed and Greg went back to thrusting his hips which his cock was hitting John’s prostate every time. 

“Oh, you like that?” Greg asked as he was panting hard now. He felt his orgasm slowly on the rise. 

“Oh, fuck yes,” John groaned out. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Greg asked. Oh, how he loved playing like this and to be John was a bonus. He just wished Mycroft would let him be dominating like this sometime. John made a coo sound that made Greg smile but to him that wasn’t an answer. “Do you want me to touch you John?” 

This time John found his voice as weak sounding at it might be. “Yes. Please. Touch me.” 

Greg wished deep down that he would have added his name but knew after the warehouse that there would only be one man name on his lips. With another few thrusts Greg wrapped his hand around John’s cock and began to stroke it. John was really bucking his hips while matching Greg’s each thrust. It felt amazing and both were starting to pick up their speed. 

“Kiss me!” John ordered. 

Greg did not hesitate as he bent down and began to kiss John in a hot and mess kiss. It was full of desperation and lust with their bodies entailed. Greg felt John’s body start to tighten which surprisingly took Greg over the edge and he moaned John’s name into his mouth. On the other hand when John began to shake, his arms wrapped around Greg’s back as he came over Greg’s stomach, John moaned, “Jim,” in a very low whimper which made Greg pull back. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Greg barked. 

Both men still in the high of their orgasms that their eyes were still a little unfocused but their minds were coming back to the reality of what just happened. 

Suddenly John’s eyes flew open in shock. “Oh, god.” 

Greg slowly pulled back and sat on his heels, his hands resting on his knees as he looked dumbfounded at John. “I…really?” 

“Greg I’m sorry. I don’t know _why_ I said that. Please, believe that.” 

“I just can’t believe. He tortured you. He fucking tortured me and our friends. Look what he has done to all of us. That madman put you in a bomb for Christ sakes.” Greg moved off the bed and began to pace the floor while running his hand this his silver hair. “I don’t understand.” 

“It’s the mind games Greg. He’s been trying to get into my head sense the day at the pool.” 

Greg halted for a moment and turned towards him a frown on his face. “You’re not considering staying with _him_ are you?” 

John looked puzzled and hurt by the question. “No. Why would you ask that?” 

“Because, back at the warehouse. What he said to you. You thought Sherlock was dead and Moriarty wanted you.” Greg paused but John knew what the question already was and really didn’t want him to ask it but he would. “Would you have gone with Moriarty?” 

John’s brows furrowed as he pitched the brim of his nose. “I. Don’t. Know.” He looked back up at Greg who looked angry now.

“How could you not? It’s simple John. No. That’s all you had to have said.” 

“He had people ready to kill you lot if you recall. I would have done anything to keep you safe.” 

“Oh, don’t use that as an excuse. If Moriarty would have gone to you on his own and offered you the same damn thing would you have said yes?” Greg crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his felt slightly apart like a cop would be as they integrated a perp. 

John gave him a long look. One that was full of annoyance. “I’m surprised you do not know me better than that. If Moriarty would have come up to me randomly the answer is no. I wouldn’t have ever said yes to him because if you fucking recall that monster forced my best friend into killing himself. Now, with that said I’m damaged goods Greg. Who in their right mind would want me? I’m an ex-army doctor with so little going for me so why would anyone _see_ me? The way Moriarty has been working me over, it’s hard for me to keep my mind straight.” He gave a frustrated grunt and locked his eyes onto Greg’s. “Nothing will be as it once was. Things are different now and they will be. I don’t know what I want other than I just want to feel wanted.” 

Greg’s arms slowly lowered to his sides as he moved onto the bed. He took John into his arms allowing John to place his head on his chest. Greg laid one arm around John’s upper back and with his other hand; he began to run it through John’s short sandy hair. “I’m here for you,” Greg said softly. “Always.” 

John relaxed into Greg’s embrace and nuzzled his face into his sliver chest hair. He was so warm. “Thank you.” He let his eyes flutter close and smiled when he felt Greg plant a gentle kiss on the top of his head. It felt wondered and something John had been craving for while now. 

Greg felt John shift to get more comfortable until he could hear low shallow breaths coming from the doctor. It felt nice to watch John sleep in his arms. Something he would lock away in his mind until the next time he needed to remind himself how John can be so venerable even though he was such a strong man. Everyone has a weakness and he was starting to think John’s was caring too much. No, he would do anything for this man. He would take a bullet for him if he had too. With that last thought in his mind, Greg slowly closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off to better things. 

*****

Jim couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. John and Greg having sex while they were being held captive. This thought made the master criminal very curious. _Kind of a weird thing to get you off._ It seemed John was turned on a lot from this and it was something he noticed back at the warehouse too that maybe John liked to feel helpless or over powered. Right now he was loving what the DI was doing to him so maybe he would test the waters with them both while he was in the room. He filed that thought away to play upon later.

Then something else completely shocked him. While John started to cum he mumbled a name that Moriarty thought John wouldn't say again. He was over joyed that John was breaking and even though he didn’t say his name to his face John still said it. Something warm was spreading its way throughout madmans body and he figured it was a mixture of arousal and pride. Then he wondered why at that moment had he said his name and the other time he didn’t. Thinking back to the warehouse he was recalled speaking sweetly to John and his kisses and touches were gentle. “Oh,” Moriarty said aloud to himself. He understood. 

The door opened to his office and he smiled as Moran walked in with a small half smile on his face. 

“Is it done?”

“Yes, sir.”

Moriarty glared at him. “All of it?” 

Moran nodded. “Yes, sir. The dvd reached its destination in the time you expected and the other matter has been dealt with as well.” 

Moriarty nodded. “Good.” He turned his gaze back to the screen. He loved watched his boys sleep. Suddenly he looked back up when Moran had cleared his throat. “What is it now?” 

“Sir, I’ve just been wondering about who Gip could have been working for. The men liked him. He was always on time he never gave a fuss and everyone respected him.”

Moriarty turned his gaze back to his first in command. He smiled softly as he asked, “You’re wondering how a man like Gip slipped under our very noses without even me realizing it. Is that what you’re asking Sebby?” 

Moran nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Moriarty clicked his tongue as he stood. He walked around his desk and leaned against it as he crossed his legs and his ankles while crossing his arms over his chest. With a shrug he simply said, “I don’t know.” 

Moran’s eyes widen in shock.

“And you know me. I don’t like not knowing. Everything on his phone was wiped cleaned and I don’t even know how that was even possible. There is nothing about him in anything that I could find. He smiply doesn’t exist.” 

“Who…Who has the power besides you that could do that?” 

“Well, there are a hand full of them Sebby dear but I must track down the ones that have it in for poor Sherly because that’s the only thing that makes sense to me. To get John as theirs like I have but one thing they don’t realize as of yet.” 

Moran hesitated for second before he asked, “And what might that be?” 

“John Watson is mine. If they so much as lay a finger on him I will cut their dicks off and throw them in the ocean.” 

Moran raised eye brow. Never had he seen his boss show so much possessiveness over anything before or anyone for that matter. It was interesting. “I will make sure nothing happens to Watson sir.” 

“See to it that you don’t. No one is to touch him unless I say it’s alright.” 

Moran nodded. Then saw something change on his boss’s face and watched as he shifted from one foot to the other. “Something wrong sir?” 

“Oh, nothing is wrong. Just curious how it would look if you and I were both fucking Johnny boy at the same time.” 

Moran felt his breath hitch as he looked stunned at his boss. It was something he had always wanted to do with Jim. He was hoping that his boss would act upon the impulse as he usually did. 

“I think he would scream my name then. Oh, and I think we might have Gregory join the fun too. They fucked while you were gone. It was adorable.” 

Moran almost frowned but kept his face impassive. He knew Jim would have taped it and hoped that he would let him watch it later. 

“Alright then. Let’s not keep our pets waiting. Hmm?” With that they turned and headed out the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be back to Sherlock and the others. I've been excited about writing this next part so stay tuned. ;) I love comments because they keep me going. Thanks you for reading.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Hudson browed furrowed as she looked at Anthea a little annoyed. “You do not need to patronize me dear. I’m a grown woman and not as fragile as most think me to be. I know I’ve seen probably a lot more in my life that would make even you blush.”
> 
> (I like posting my favorite lines that I write. This is one of them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I wanted to make it a little short but clear on what's going to come next. Well, clear enough anyway. Hope you enjoy.

Anthea lead Irene to Mycroft's office but she had the dominatrix wait outside while she retrieved the phone. Wants the door was locked Anthea turned towards Irene and held up her phone. "Why do you wanting this back so badly?" Anthea asked narrowing her eyes on The Woman.

"That's none of your concern. Now if you're done with the third degree kindly hand it over." Irene grumbled clearly annoyed and a little anxious.

"Is there something on here that can help find them?"

Irene shook her head. "Doubt it," she replied honestly.

Anthea could sense it and reached the phone out towards Irene for her to take. When Irene took it she turned and began to walk away when Anthea grabbed her arm. Both were staring the other in the eye. "If you're lying and I found out about it I'll make sure you'll regret it." Anthea hissed as she turned leaving Irene standing there with her mouth agape and a little dumbfounded.

Anthea went down the stairs and outside into the night air. It felt a little cool but she didn’t feel the need to grab her coat. Her anger would keep her warm. She began to walk along the side of the building lost in her thoughts of the events leading up to now. She hated how things had turned out and she wished she could have done something to stop that madman from taking two of the most important men in her boss’s life and his brothers. She was glad to have Mycroft and Sherlock back but she was getting use to Greg and John being around. Not to mention they were her third and forth priorities. So, she will stop at nothing to make sure they are safe. _Well, when they are back here again that is._

Suddenly Anthea heard a low gasp and she snapped her gaze up to see Mrs. Hudson was sitting out on a side patio. “Oh, dear."

“Oh, forgive me Mrs. Hudson. I did not mean to sneak up on you.”

“Quite alright deary. I’m use to it.” Mrs. Hudson gave her a warm smile.

Anthea returned the smile as she walked up and took a seat next to the landlady. “Are you doing alright?”

Mrs. Hudson nodded. “Oh, of course. I’m just a bit…worried.”

Anthea nodded because she didn’t reveal that she was too. She feared the worst for both men that Moriarty had in his clutches and she would do anything to get them away from that monster. “I’m sure Sherlock will be able to get something from that dvd.”

Mrs. Hudson browed furrowed as she looked at Anthea a little annoyed. “You do not need to patronize me dear. I’m a grown woman and not as fragile as most think me to be. I know I’ve seen probably a lot more in my life that would make even you blush.”

Anthea couldn’t argue with that. “That’s not…I was just saying that I have faith in him.”

Mrs. Hudson nodded, a sympathetic smile crossing her lips. “Of course dear. I know if anyone is capable of finding John and Greg its Sherlock. He’s good at this sort of thing you know. That man is the best and I know he will bring them home where they belong.” Her voice began to shake slightly as her words were getting caught in her throat. A single tear was glistening in the corner of her left eye from the moon beams over casting them both. She moved her hand up towards her hair like she was trying to fix a lose strand and wiped the tear away. If Anthea wasn’t so observant because of her job than she wouldn’t have noticed at all, however, she had and she wondered if she should say something to her or not.

“Sherlock will find them and I know he and Mycroft both will make sure all this will end,” Anthea said placing a hand on the landlady’s shoulder.

Mrs. Hudson’s smile looked sad and she said, “I’m sure he will dear. He is the best after all.” She slowly stood to her feet. They exchanged pleasantries before the landlady turned and disappeared back inside.

Anthea sat there feeling at a loss. She wanted to bring them home not only for the Holmes brother’s sake but for everyone else who has been touched by their lives. They both were good men and they didn’t deserve the hell of what they must be going through. Heaven or hell, she was going to do all she could, within her power to make sure something like this wouldn’t happen ever again.

As she sat there alone a little lost in thought, she felt like there were eyes on her so as she looked up she saw a face staring down at her from a window. She let a small smile stretch across her face. For a few more moments they remind like that until he turned away. Letting out a slow and uneven breath, she decided she needed to speak with her boss about what had happened back at the warehouse. She had to know what was on his chest and she would demand the answers without him turning her away. So, with that in mind she stood and headed inside.

*****

Irene watched Anthea disappear before she turned and headed down towards a room that was hers for the time being. As she entered her head was bowed looking at her cell phone when a hand quickly covered her mouth to keep her from screaming.

“I see you have it now,” a female voice hissed that Irene knew all too well. “You know you can’t say no to him.”

Irene tried to speak but it was muffled due to the hand still covering her mouth. She sighed showing her _attacker_ she was clearly annoyed.

“Fine,” the voice said as she let loose of Irene.

Irene turned quickly and barked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I was supposed to keep an eye on John Watson. Those were my orders but clearly now since that psychopath has him my newest ones were to stay close to here so when the time came I could get my hands on him.”

“Tell him I do not need your help. I can get Johnny alone. I have before.”

The other woman chuckled. “He hates you. He detests you. What makes you think you can get him alone after this? My cover hasn’t been blown and John trusts me.”

“As a co-worker,” Irene hissed. Mary held up a key and Irene knew all too well what that key looked liked. “You mean…”

“We were until that maniac decided to come back to life. I was getting close…”

“Never get to close,” Irene reminded her. “He will make you regret it.”

“Don’t they all?” Mary replied.

“Well, I really do think you should leave. No one will give you a second thought and when I need you than I will send for you. In the mean time you need to stay away. I have everything under control.”

“Is that what you think? Really?” Mary took out her cell phone. She skimmed through it before she found what she was looking for and held it up for Irene to see.

Irene’s eyes grew wide in shock and she mouth slowly dropped open. “How did you?”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is we know where they are and we need to get to them before the Holmes brother do.”

Irene was silent for a moment. “What if we used them?”

“Come again?” Mary asked a little confused.

“Hear me out. What if we used the Holmes brothers and all their resources to get them out of there? I mean why should any of our men have to die?”

Mary’s head swayed from side to side like she was thinking it over. “Fine, but we need to make sure Sherlock comes up with most of the idea himself otherwise this won’t work and they will be all over us.”

Irene nodded. “Let me handle that.”

Mary filled Irene in on all the details from what Gip had found out about the big mansion he was suppose to help guarding. “I’m sending you all the details and lay out of the building. I want you to make something up how you were interested in something like that and you already had plans on it. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be convincing since Sherlock hangs on your every word anyway.”

“He is such a little puppy. It’s adorable.”

“Now, who should be the one saying to not get to close?” Mary questioned.

“Trust me. I would never betray him. I’ve got too much to lose.”

Mary nodded. “Then it’s settled. Go and dazzle him with your charm like the little snake you are.”

Irene smiled. “Quite right,” she said as she turned and headed out the door. She walked back down to the room where Sherlock was and hesitated in entering. With a sigh she hated what she had to do. She did care for Sherlock. He was a genius, yes, but he was also an idiot as John had told him time and time again. It made her smile thinking about the pair of them together. Could she go through with this? She leaned her forehead against the door trying to figure out what to do when she heard a shout come from the other side of the door. Curiosity taking hold, Irene stormed into the room…

*****

Sherlock took the last drag off of the cigarette that Mrs. Hudson had so graciously retrieved for him. He just wished he had another one because to him it was better than the alternative. "Brother mine. I need you to watch this with me," Sherlock insisted. He hated that he already had watched it once and saw nothing that could help him to locating them because his emotions were running high every time he saw his John. He hated seeing Moriarty glide his hands up his John's inner thigh and hearing the psychopath can John his love was getting too much to bare. _Not your John. My John._ The voice growled in his mind. He would go all predatory if he had too to make sure no one could touch his John again. _It will be for his own good. John will understand._

"I can't," Mycroft murmured standing over by the window with his back towards the younger Holmes. As he stared out into the darkness he could see the silhouette of a figure out on the side patio. One he knew all too well by the way she moved and wondered how Anthea was doing. He knew she cared for Greg and possibly John and thought; _I shall need to have a word with her._ Just then Sherlock pulled him back out of his thoughts because he turned towards the younger Holmes and he inquired for him to repeat his question with a simple, "hmm?"

Sherlock sighed and grumbled under his breath with frustration. "I said need your....help."

Mycroft studied Sherlock for a moment. He could see the concern, the worry, and how fearful he looked. Like a small child afraid that the monster in the closet would jump out and spook him. Clearly the pain medication was effecting his emotions to try and hide anything from him. “Sherlock,” Mycroft began, “It’s hard to see ones loved one in a situation like that.” 

“Oh, and you don’t think it’s hard for me to see John like that?” Sherlock snapped. 

“That’s not what…I know you care for the doctor…”

“John. His name in John!” Sherlock scowled. “And of course I care. I wouldn’t have fated my own death if it wasn’t for the threat against my John.” _Not to mention Greg’s life was at stake but you understand that better than anything, don’t you brother dear?_ Sherlock growled in his head. He shifted in his bed feeling like the pain mediation wasn’t doing much to suppress his pain at the moment. Physical and emotional, it made him scowl at himself. 

Mycroft lifted an eye brow at the young Holmes. It was like they were back down in that cell at the warehouse. The emotions from them both were still running high and either of them really knew how to control it. It was an odd feeling indeed. Mycroft let out a low sigh and he walked back over to the side of the Sherlock’s bed. He turned so he was looking at the telly and hoped to god he could focus enough to look for any clues other than keeping his focus on where his heart wanted him too. 

“By the way,” Sherlock began softly, “How’s you’re, uh, wound?” 

Mycroft hadn’t shown anyone what Moriarty had done to his chest because he was ashamed of it. Not to mention he was compromised and if his superiors out word than Mycroft might have to explain more than he had in the report he wrote up yesterday. He really didn’t want anyone to know about it. Just the ones who mattered. “It’s healing.” 

“Did you tell anyone?” Sherlock asked curiously. 

Mycroft looked at him with a questioning look. “No.” 

“But, it is healing? You took care of it yourself?” 

“Yes,” Mycroft replied. “Why are you asking about this now?” Mycroft asked a little puzzled and annoyed. 

“Because I’m reminded you of what he made you do. What he made you watch. Use your anger to help you.” Sherlock paused then added, “It seems to work.” 

Mycroft shifted from one foot to the other and nodded. “I see your point.” Was all he said before he turned and hit play for the video to begin once more. 

Sherlock was looking at everything around them. Looking for a window or a door, something, anything to help and then the camera was turned on John once more. Sherlock’s heart sank slightly and he almost turned away when this time he focused on John’s face. He watched carefully when he saw John finally looked up and began to blink. Then the video moved on. “Wait!” Sherlock shouted. “Go back.” 

Mycroft hit the rewind button and hit play when Sherlock had told him too. He was looking for whatever it was that Sherlock may have seen but still was having hard time with spotting it. 

Sherlock watched very intently and as John looked up slightly he could see John blinking in a pattered. It was fast and very subtle but Sherlock knew that all too well from when John was blinking S.O.S. to him back at the pool. They had a long talk after the incident and Sherlock picked up a few books so he could learn Morse Code. It had saved their lives more than once since then. “Oh, John you brilliant man!” Sherlock shouted. 

Suddenly the door opened and in walked Irene. “Is everything alright? I heard shouting?” 

“It’s John! Oh, that brilliant man!” Sherlock shouted again. “Don’t you see?” He asked Mycroft. 

“No, brother dear, I really don’t. Please do in lighten me.” 

“Watch John’s eyes,” Sherlock insisted. 

They all watched the telly once more as Sherlock watched them. It was like watching it in slow motion and was pleased when he heard Irene say, “Well, I’ll be damned.” 

Mycroft couldn’t believe he didn’t see it himself at first but it had been a long while since he used Morse Code for anything. Now, he thought he might need to look into it. “Well, done Doctor Watson,” he murmured out loud. 

“What’s he saying?” Irene asked curiously. 

“He is spelling out the word mansion. Moriarty took them to a place that is huge and yet is far away from anything. I’m sure it’s still on the water too. How many places are like that?” Sherlock asked Mycroft. 

Irene found that this was the moment she had been waiting for. “There are a few but there is one specific one that I might know of.” She pulled out her phone, thankful the password was something Sherlock would never guess again, and began to type away on it. Finally finding it was she was searching for; she walked over and showed them the building in question. “I had been looking for a building to have a little get together at. There was on that seemed to be on my list that might be something Moriarty had his eye on. We do have similar tastes and interests after all.” She looked up at Sherlock a moment as she spoke. Their eyes met a moment before he turned away. She smiled softly. 

Sherlock studied the photo. It seemed to be the most logical one out of the ones he was scanning over in his mind palace. This had to be it. He looked from Irene to Mycroft and said, “This has to be it. We need get a team together and move as quickly as we can.” Sherlock threw his covers off of him and both Irene and Mycroft launched forward to stop him. 

“What are you doing?” Irene hissed. 

“I’m going to get my John back!” Sherlock snapped.

“Sherlock you are in no condition to go up against Moriarty. You were shot for Christ sakes,” Mycroft snapped back. 

“I don’t care. I’m helping.” 

“Why must you act like such a child?” Mycroft grumbled. 

“He's my friend!" Sherlock said shuddering slightly with hearing the echo of John's words ghost over his mind. He shook the feeling of guilt aside as he continued. "My best friend and nothing either of you can say will change my mind on the matter. That’s final.” 

Neither Irene nor Mycroft spoke again and Sherlock gave a satisfied snort as he stood to his feet. “Now bring me my clothes.” He was a little unsteady on his feet from the pain medication but nothing was going to stop him from going after his John. “So, let’s go over a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure there is more questions still then answers. Trust me I might be making this up some as I go but I do know where the story is headed. I'm really excited about it. Getting close.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty pulled his hand away and lifted the hand that held the gun towards John’s head. He pushed it lightly into the side of John’s temple as he purred, “Slide another finger into him Johnny. Do a good job with opening him up and I'll reward you but if you don’t do as I tell you then I will fuck you with the gun.”
> 
> (One of my favorites.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to write a smut chapter with all of them and so here it is. It was a lot of fun to write. I love it. I hope you enjoy it and that it flows okay.

"Oh, Seb just look at them. Curled up in the others embrace for comfort. I'm sure I will truly hate myself later for ruining such a precious moment."

Moran just rolled his eyes as he stood back with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Daddy says it’s time to rise and shine kiddos," Moriarty sang standing at the foot of the bed.

Neither man stirred which slightly frustrated the master criminal. _I will not be ignored._ He turned towards Moran and held out his hand.

Moran raised an eye brow as he reached up and pulled his gun from its holster. He handed it over to his boss, anxiety on how the boys were going to react. He kept himself on alert just in case this was going to go south too quickly.

Moriarty stretched his arm well above his head, pointing the gun's barrel towards the ceiling. He fired three shots, one after the other, watching in both bemusement and fascination as both John and Greg shot upright awake in the bed.

John did not hesitate as he jumped from the bed to meet the threat head on, his senses in over drive. Blinded still from the sleepy haze, he screamed and rushed at the first figure he saw. Moriarty didn’t move as John rushed towards him. He was so fascinated how John snapped awake from a deep sleep to that soldier who was ready to kill at the drop of a hat, however, he was a little disappointed when Moran intercepted the tackle. Both men crashed to the ground and rolled around as the other tried to gain the advantage.

Greg was about to launch himself off the bed when Moriarty turned the gun down towards him. "I wouldn't if I were kitten. Don't want to upset Daddy now, do we?"

Greg wanted to snap the madman's neck or at least have the satisfaction to finally punch the maniac in the face. But, he knew that would only make matters worse. "No," he grumbled.

Moriarty cocked the gun letting a mischievous grin stretch across his face. “No, what?"

Greg cringed, his brow furrowed in irrigation. _Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me._ What was this madman expecting from him? He didn't want to play along and thinking about what this psychopath wanted him to say, he loathed the fact even more that he was considering giving in. _It really is the only way in order to survive. Mycroft would understand._ Not to mention it would be best for both he and John in the long run too. So, with that in mind he leaned back against the head board and half smiled at the madman as he murmured, "No, Daddy. I don't wish to upset you."

Moriarty licked his lips making eye contact with Greg. “There’s my good boy,” Moriarty purred in his deep Irish accent. He walked around to Greg’s side of the bed, letting his eyes wonder over Greg’s body, a hint of lust twinkling in his eye as he slowly lowered his arm that was holding the gun, to his side. “You know we haven’t had much time to really get to know one another have we Detective Inspector? I feel bad about that. After all you were the one to put me in handcuffs the first time we met.” Moriarty gave him a wink as he reached out his free hand to let it glide over Greg’s nipple. Greg let out a slight gasp, turning his head away in shame.

Moriarty hummed as he said, “No need to feel ashamed kitten. It’s alright for it to feel good.”

 _That’s the problem. I “don’t” want it to feel good!_ The voice growled in his mind. He really didn’t want this, right? Well, it wasn’t like he could stop the master criminal from doing what the fuck he wanted to him anyway. Moriarty would do as he pleased. So, he began to feel the urge to not fight against the madman. _It will only hurt you and John in the process._ One thing he was for sure on was he didn’t want any harm to come to John. _John!_ Suddenly his gaze snapped towards the floor. He looked everywhere then finally spotted them. Moran had hold of John from behind with his limbs wrapped around the doctor good and tight. He couldn’t hear what Moran was saying to him but he could tell it was something soothing because whatever it was, was calming John down.

Moriarty turned, looking towards the two while meeting Moran’s eyes. He mouthed, ‘Alright?’ and Moran nodded. Moriarty turned his gaze back to Greg. “Johnny is fine kitten. Everything is fine.”

Greg jerked his gaze towards the madman, his eyes fueled with anger. “Fine? Everything is not fine! It would be fine if we weren’t here. You do not own us Mr. Moriarty. We are not your pets!”

Moriarty twisted Greg’s nipple forcing Greg to yelp and howl out in pain. “Daddy. Call me Daddy or Jim, alright kitten?” Moriarty let go and smiled wickedly down at him.

Greg rubbed his sore nipple shocked that Moriarty lost it like that on him. _Christ!_ He didn’t want to force the madman to the point he would lash out his rage on either of them. Not again. So, he really did have to play along with the madman's games. Greg swallowed hard as he lowered his vision like a child would after being scolded for disobeying their parent. 

“I…I’m sorry…Daddy,” Greg stammered cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Moriarty reached out his hand once more but this time it was towards Greg’s cock and starting casting gentle ghost like strokes on the underside of it. He hummed softly enjoying that Greg’s cock was reacting to him so quickly. “Mmmm, someone likes that,” Moriarty purred. He reached out with his other hand now, which still had the cocked gun in his hand and slowly traced it down Greg’s cheek to his neck. It pleased him that the DI began to shake under his touch while his cock still was hardening with each second ticking by. “Tell me Detective Inspector, do you like this?”

Greg shivered as the cocked gun moved downward from his neck, still moving down towards his chest towards his… _Oh._ Greg shuddered, shifting when Moriarty rested the gun down between his legs, slowly moving it along his balls. The barrel was cold now which Greg was thankful for but it still was scary to think what the madman was going to do next. Even though he had a pretty good idea what was coming, he really didn’t want to think about it.

Moriarty moved the barrel down a little more and began to gently circle Greg’s hole. A wicked grin stretched across his lips. "Relax Gregory," Moriarty growled deep.

Wrong! This was so wrong and yet Greg was surprised how his body was reacting to the Irishman's tone of command. He felt his legs spread apart a little more so as to allow Moriarty to have more room to work with.

"Ooh, so accommodating. Good boy," Moriarty praised. He looked around the room and saw the bottle of lube was on the floor at the foot of the bed. His gaze shifted towards Moran and John, smiling big at the sight before him. "Can you bring me that bottle on the floor John?" He was really enjoying the fact that these men reacted so well to being commanded or through praise and he was excited to further experiment with it just to see how far he could push them to go.

***

When they crashed to the floor and rolled away from the bed, Moran did he best not to hurt John. He rolled John onto his stomach and with having the advantage of the moment; he wrapped his arms and legs around the doctor. "John, stop," Moran said in a soothing tone. However, John didn't stop. He kept thrashing about, trying to free himself so he could destroy his enemy.

"It's okay John. You aren't back in Afghanistan. You're in London." Moran was doing his best to bring John back out of his past. This wasn't the first time Moran had seen this in an ex-soldier. He, himself, had a trigger that only Moriarty knew about. "John. Come on John. Remember. You are in a very nice bedroom back in London. Your friend Greg Lestrade is here too."

"Greg?" John said weakly, his body slowly began to relax a little on its own.

Moran couldn't hold back a smile. "Yes, John. Greg Lestrade, who is your friend and is also the Detective Inspector from the New Scotland Yard," he whispered, relieved that he felt John relax just a little bit more. Looking towards his boss, Moran saw Jim mouth, ‘Alright?’ and Moran nodded in return then focused his attention back on John. "Do you know who that man on the bed is John?" He asked coolly.

There was slight moment of silence from the doctor. Moran wasn’t for sure he was going to even answer him and then he heard, "That's...Greg," John said hesitantly.

Moran caught the hint of doubt in John’s tone and shifted so he could run a hand through the doctor's short sandy hair. "Good John. Very good. Now, you do know you’re in London, right?"

John hesitated again before he gave a whispered, "Yes."

"Excellent John. You're doing well." Moran kept running his hand through John's hair. It seemed to be soothing him nicely. "Now, John my next question is, do you know who the man is standing beside the bed?" Moran asked hoping it wouldn't trigger another violent outburst.

There was a long pause. Moran didn't get any vocal response in return but he could feel the doctor’s body start to tense. He started to tense, ready for another violet out burst from the doctor but was thrown back when instead he heard a low moan exit from the sandy haired man lips. Moran let his eyes fall onto the scene before him. Moriarty was tracing his own loaded and cocked gun down Greg's body until it rested at the DI's entrance of his arse. Moran could feel John’s breathe hitch in his throat, so he was going to take the opportunity to use this to their advantage to try and manipulate John into becoming more like them. It’s what Jim wanted after all. "You like what you see doc?" He cooed into the doctor’s ear.

Despite what John should be feeling right now (which was anguish or maybe even a little sick to his stomach), with what his eyes began to focus on now, he felt his cock twitch and slowly begin to harden. A little bead of precum began to run down his staff. He knew it was wrong. So, very god damn wrong but Christ it was turning him on. _No, I shouldn’t be turned on because it’s wrong. I know it’s wrong and yet…_ John’s fantasies were a lot darker than anyone would be able to fathom and one of his many guilty pleasures was that he loved to fantasize about gun play. However, he was always too afraid to try because he didn’t think anyone would understand. But, Christ, Moriarty understood and John’s eyes were glued to Greg’s face that looked scared, shocked, aroused, and panicked all at the same time. It was a beautiful sight.

“You alright doc?” Moran asked softly.

John licked his lips, slowly he nodded. “I…uh…”

Moran moved his hand out of John’s hair and moved it around to his front, slowly moving it downwards until he took John’s cock in his hand. He let out a soft hum pleased the doctor was enjoying what he was seeing. “Mmmm, so hard Doctor Watson and oh so willing,” he purred softly.

John let out a low moan as he involuntary thrust his hips forward so his cock was more in Moran’s hand. His body shook and he wasn’t for sure why he was letting this happen. He still wanted to fight against them but that voice, the one that he heard to tell him to fight back, was so far away in his mind that all he could hear was the sound of heavy breathing coming from the man behind him. Not to mention he, himself, was panting heavily.

Moran snaked his fingers a little tighter around John’s cock and began to move it up and down his staff. “Ooh, so beautiful. I can see why you’re in high demand doc.”

Just then their moment came to a screeching halt when Moriarty turned his attention back on them once more with a big smile on his face. "Can you bring me that bottle on the floor John?" Moriarty was pointing to the bottle of lube that he had used when he had fucked John earlier and the same bottle John had used on Greg.

John looked from the bottle then towards Greg. The DI lifted his head enough so one met the others gaze. They both knew in that moment what was going to happen. This was a test and if John didn’t play then bad things would happen with that gun. However, deep down, John really wanted to watch the DI get fucked. Hell, he, himself, wanted that and he had a feeling that's why Moriarty was doing this now. So with a deep draw inward of air, John began to move out of Moran’s grip and headed for the bottle. When he picked it up, he walked over to the end of the bed and held out the bottle for Moriarty to take.

Moriarty’s smile was the biggest either of them had ever seen before. It was like a cheshire cat grin that had ate a hawk. “That’s my good boy,” Moriarty praised. “Now, be a good lad and work the Detective Inspector open for me?”

John once again looked at Greg. The question was there even though he didn’t speak it. After a moment Greg nodded because he knew it would be better in the long run. He didn’t mind John working him open because he knew he could trust the doctor to be gentle with him. It was for what would come after that made him scared. He didn’t want Moriarty to fuck him with the barrel of the gun but that’s what seemed like was going to happen.

John popped opened the cap of lube and squirted some out onto his fingers. It felt cool so he began to work it between his finger tips before reaching down towards the DI's entrance. Greg let lose a shaky breath, tilting his head back, he let his eyes flutter half closed when he felt John begin to push a finger inside of him. It didn’t hurt as badly as he thought it was going to and he thought perhaps he could take any object without issue. 

“Greg, relax,” John commanded slowly pushing his finger forward until it hint the DI’s prostate while Moriarty continued to slowly move his hand up and down the DI’s length.

Greg let out a low groan hearing John’s tone deepen, commanding him in his captain voice. It was sexy as hell to the DI and he liked how it sent shivers through out his entire body. He had dreamt once that John had showed up unannounced to his office wearing his military uniform and had snatched his handcuffs from him. John had cuffed the DI’s wrists behind his back and then proceeded to rip open his shirt, marking every inch of him. Greg thought it was one of the hottest dreams he had of the good doctor and right now it was making him painfully hard.

Moriarty pulled his hand away and lifted the hand that held the gun towards John’s head. He pushed it lightly into the side of John’s temple as he purred, “Slide another finger into him Johnny. Do a good job with opening him up and I'll reward you but if you don’t do as I tell you then I will fuck you with the gun.”

John couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through his body as he felt the cold melt being pressed against the side of his head. _Oh, you bloody git. You know how much this is turning me on and you still are pushing me._ John hummed deep in his throat as he slipped a second finger inside of Greg and couldn’t turn his gaze from the DI’s expression of pure arousal.

Greg let out a loud groan, arching his back slightly as he closed his eyes tighter. He hated that he saw Moriarty pointing a gun at John’s head but something he wasn’t expecting was seeing John so turned on by the fact of Moriarty holding him at gun point while working him open. It had seemed there was more to John Watson then Greg previous knew and part of him wanted to explore more of that darker side in John. _Christ this was so wrong but fuck it feels so good._

“Now, for a third finger my love,” Moriarty purred as he reached his free hand out and let it glide over the wound that he had branded onto John earlier. John was still curious as what it said but now wasn't the time to ask because he felt Moriarty's fingers slide downward and began to caress his bare arse. John hummed while he pushed a third finger inside forcing Greg to gasp. “Ooh, so lovely. You’re doing very well doctor.” Moriarty lightly squeezed John’s arse while keeping the gun’s barrel pressed into the side of his head. He was loving the fact that John was so turned on by this. _Ooh, Johnny, the things I'm going teach you my love. You're going to be so perfect. My little dangerous boy._ Watching John take control was really turning him on and he decided he was going to take John. _Mine_

John slowly pulled his fingers back enough for the tips of them to remain in side then slowly pushed them back in hitting Greg’s prostate. He repeated the act a few times forcing Greg to whimper with need. 

“Such good boys for Daddy and I feel the need to reward such good behavior,” Moriarty cooed as he looked towards Moran. “Sebby dear, be a doll and lube up Johnny boy’s ever so hardening cock for him please? I feel it’s time for the boys to get a little more intimate. They’ve deserved it after all.” Moriarty smiled big keeping the fact from them that he had seen them fuck earlier on a computer monitor. It was hot but not as much as it was right at this very moment because it was always ten times better in person. _Mine._ A predatory voice growled within his mind. 

Moran was at John’s side in seconds. He held the bottle of lubricant in his hand and popped opened the cap. Squirting some into his hand, Moran moved his hand to John’s cock and began to stroke from the base towards the tip of John’s staff.

John shivered, his legs a little weak from one hand stroking his very painfully hard cock to the hand massaging his arse. "Christ, that's good." Suddenly, he snapped his eyes open when he heard both men on either side of him giggle lightly and he flashed a bright red realizing he had spoken out loud. 

"Ooh, no need to feel embarrassed love," Moriarty murmured as he moved from the side of the bed to behind John. He kept the gun gently pressed against the side of John's head as he pressed his fully clothed body against the doctor's naked form. He leaned forward making sure his lips were right next to John's ear. "You are such a good boy for Daddy Johnny. And, I want you to keep being a good boy for Daddy by fucking him. Fuck him until he screams your name while he cums. Do it Johnny and Daddy will reward you." He turned his lips down towards John’s neck and began to press his lips gently against him, sucking lightly at his bare skin. 

John whimpered, letting his eyes flutter closed as he leaned back into Moriarty. He shivered once more listening to the sickening sweet voice of the master criminal while the words ghosted over his ear, making him promises and giving him praises. For reasons unknown to him, John liked it when Moriarty praised him. Just like a master to his pet, John knew he shouldn't but he was learning that he was truly starting to really enjoy it. Even more so now that the master criminal was gently marking him. Suddenly, Greg whimpered under John’s touch which forced John to turn his gaze towards the DI. 

After listening to what the criminal wanted the doctor to do next, Greg was shocked when his gaze fell upon John. The doctor’s pupils were blown wide, his lips were parted slightly, he was breathing heavier, and everything about him screamed predatory. The last realization made Greg shudder as he realized how much John looked like an animal ready to devour him and he was surprised himself how much he really wanted John to take him. 

It was like John could hear Greg’s thoughts because without warning John slipped out his fingers and forced Greg's legs apart. He moved forward, climbing onto the bed, he was now on his knees between the DI's spread legs. Greg had no time to register what was happening until he felt something hard being pushed inside of him. 

"Ooh, Christ John," Greg hissed. It wasn't hurting him per say but there was a fair amount of pressure. He groaned deep as he fisted his hands into the sheets. 

"Just relax Greg," John encouraged, slowly thrusting his hips forward to bury his cock deeper inside the DI. 

For the moment all time seemed like it had stood still and it felt like it was just the two of them. However, John felt the gun’s barrel slowly move down the side of his head until it rested at his cheek. The Irish sing-song voice was still cooing in his ear. “Fuck him Johnny. Make Daddy proud.” 

John began rocking his hips while looking down into the DI’s face. It was twisted in arousal and a hit of shame. His eyes were red with tears streaming down his cheeks, trying to fight off his since of what was right and what was wrong. He looked beautifully wrecked. Something John would treasure knowing he made this strong and well respected cop, crumble into a mess of a man. 

Suddenly the bed dips from behind John and he feels bare skin touch his own. Moriarty pushing the gun back against the side of his head and says, “Mmmm, I’ve really been waiting to get back at that scar of your Johnny. To suck it…” Moriarty’s lips move forward encircling John’s scar and begins to suck. 

John doesn’t even recall Moriarty pulling the gun away let alone stripping behind him until he was fully naked. _How in the…_ That was the only thought to cross his mind before he felt Moriarty’s lips press and begin to suck at his scar. “Fuck Jim,” John gasped. His body began to shake while he picked up his rhyme.

Greg arched his back, his eyes closed as he moaned, “Fuck John.” At this point he didn’t much care that Moriarty or Moran was in the room. All that matter was he was getting fucked by John. “Oh, fuck that feels good.” 

“Such good boys,” Moriarty purred as he kept sucking at John’s scar. “Mmmm, my boys.” Moriarty slowly began to bend John forward slightly so his arse was more accessible to him and before John knew what was happening Moriarty slowly pushed his cock into John’s hole. 

“Oh, shit Jim. Christ. What are you? Ooh, fuck.” John groaned as he felt Moriarty push in until he hit his prostate. 

“I know my love,” Moriarty cooed as he returned his lips back to John’s scar. “Mine,” he growled lightly in a predatory tone. 

John couldn’t think of a coherent thing to say while he was being fucked by a man so hard that it was bringing pleasure to the man he currently had his own cock buried in. “Yours.” 

“No, John,” Greg hissed through gritted teeth. “Christ, he is getting to you.” 

Moriarty looked over John’s shoulder and down at Greg, a devious grin sweeping across his face. “Ooh, don’t tell me kitten that you’re still fighting the fact that you think you don’t belong to me too. Look at Johnny boy here. He knows he belongs to me and you know deep down you do too. Just look at us. We are a beautiful sight to behold. Don’t you think John?” 

“Christ….yes…” John chocked out as Moriarty began to thrust harder. 

“Mmmm, see he knows it to be true kitten and so will you. Hey tiger,” Moriarty purred looking towards Moran, “Be a good boy for Daddy and suck Gregory off please?” 

Moran loved it when Jim called him tiger. It was such a turn on for him and he would do anything Jim asked of him in a heartbeat. Moran’s eyes met Greg’s and he licked his lips while slowly strolling over to the bed. “It would be my pleasure.” Moran made the bed dip a little bit more as he climbed on. He slowly moved his lips towards Greg’s cock while Greg could swear he heard the theme music from Jaw’s playing in his mind. Moran took the tip of Greg’s cock into his mouth and danced his tongue all around it. Greg bucked his hips forcing his cocked to drive deeper into Moran’s mouth and forcing John’s cock to hit his prostate. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” Greg shouted moaning louder than he had before. 

It didn’t take any time at all for Greg to be the first one to cum. He bucked and moaned out John’s name, his body shaking and tensing up as his cum shot down Moran’s throat. When his body tensed it only took a few more thrusts before John’s body began to tense and he came deep inside the DI, his screams of pleasure was echoing Jim’s name. With hearing his name coming for the good doctor, Moriarty couldn’t hold back any longer and thrusting deep, he came inside John with biting at his scar forcing another loud cry from the doctor’s lips. It was pure bliss. 

However, after a little time had passed, they were all spent. John fell to the side of Greg and Moriarty shortly followed. All three lay on the bed panting hard with wide goofy grins on their faces. “Well, that was incredible,” Moriarty purred. 

John looked from the ceiling towards Moriarty who was looking up the ceiling himself and John couldn’t help but stare. It was the first time he had ever seen Moriarty in a state like this. His face looked so relaxed. Nothing like he was back at the pool. _He is so beautiful when he looks so peaceful._

Moriarty saw John out of the corner of his eyes and turned his gave to his. “What?” he asked curiously. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” John said blushing slightly as he turned his gaze away, embarrassed he was caught. 

Moriarty moved his hand out and place it lightly under John’s chin. He made John turn his attention back to him. “You’re blushing Johnny. Clearly it wasn’t just nothing.” 

John smiled softy. “Well, just was thinking how different you can be. How changeable. One moment you can be so sweet, caring and charming. Then the next moment you could be a…well a…” 

“A monster,” Moriarty muttered smiling softly back at him. 

“Right, yeah. A monster. How is it that you can be like that? Like one moment you’re Bruce Banner and then the next you’re the Hulk?” 

Moriarty just chuckled. “I’ve never thought of myself in those terms before but as long as I don’t turn a dark shade of green, I think you should be fine.” 

It was John’s turn to giggle and he even heard Greg chuckle a little at that too. “Well, I want you to know I do like this side of you.” 

Moriarty’s smile widen a little more. “Well, I’m glad. I will try to show you this side of me more in the future.” 

“I’d like that,” John whispered. 

“Me too,” Greg murmured starting to except that Moriarty was right. He sighed feeling a little more defeated.

“Okay, then. Now, how about we…” 

Suddenly Moran’s phone rang. All eyes turned towards him realizing they had forgotten about him even being in the room. The man was still fully clothed and standing off in a corner. He put his phone to his ear as he saw Moriarty’s intense gaze on him. “What...No…Don’t do that…Yes, of course…I’ll be right there.” Moran looked at his boss after he had hung up the phone. “Something I have to deal with sir.” He turned and headed for the door. 

Moriarty called out, “Should I be…concerned?” 

Moran hated when he used that word. Jim was never one to be concerned about anything unless it was something he might lose and last time he almost lost John. No, he couldn’t worry him. “It doesn’t seem to be anything major. I’ll handle it.” He was relieved when he saw his boss relax a little before he headed out the door. 

John met Greg’s gaze for only a moment but somehow they knew this was something bigger than Moran was letting on to believe. Maybe it was their rescue but than a horrifying notion hit John. _What if it wasn’t Sherlock to come save us. What if it was the people Gip had worked for?_ He almost wanted to tell Moriarty right then about it but if he was wrong and it was Sherlock then he would lose by Moriarty moving them again. Could he really do that to Greg? This was their only chance so he had to keep his mouth shut. Even though he felt himself falling for the master criminal, he still had to get Greg out of this mess. He didn’t belong here but John was starting to think that maybe he did. 

“Well, let’s try to get a little shut eye. Kitten face the other way and Johnny you do the same,” Moriarty instructed. Both men turned over on their sides and John scooted up so he was spooning Greg from behind. He then felt Moriarty doing the same to him and then reach down to grab for the covers, pulling them up to their shoulders. “Sleep my dears. More play time to come.” 

Neither man thought they could sleep but when they closed their eyes it was much easier then they had thought seeing out tired they were from getting and being fucked. However, it wasn’t all so bad John thought as he drifted off. He liked the warm of Moriarty’s body wrapped around him. The man was a beautiful creature if not deadly and John was really starting to wonder if he wanted to leave him. No one, not eve Sherlock made him feel like this and he was unsure if he wanted that feeling to go away. He was sure Greg would disapprove, not to mention everyone else who knew him but no one really would be able understand. No one but Moriarty. With that in mind he felt the other two had drifted off to sleep before him and he quickly followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know you're thoughts on this chapter and if you want more like this in the future. Your wonderful comments are whats keeping me going. Thank you.
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/violetgreen1987?ref_type=bookmark


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The game is on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hoping you enjoy this chapter. I feel it might be a little rocky but next chapter I am going to take a little time with. I'm so happy with fair I've come on this and really proud of it. Thank you for reading and for the wonderful comments.

"It's suicide!" Molly exclaimed, looking from one Holmes brother to the other. She looked outraged at the mere thought of Sherlock going in the condition he was in. 

"Molly's right," Irene huffed clearly irritated, "You're going to get yourself killed!" 

"We can get them out, Sherlock. No need for you to be put in harm’s way in the condition you're in," Anderson murmured. He looked really concerned and for Sherlock, he was going to need a little time to get use that. 

"What he said," Donavon huffed clearly as irrigated as the rest of them. 

Sherlock turned his gaze towards them all. His face was twisted with pain but it wasn't the pain radiating from his gunshot wound. "I cannot nor will I just sit ideally by on the side lines when you all are storming that place. I have to do this and besides John would do the same for me." He just hoped he wasn't too late to _save_ John. It scared him to think John would pick that monster over him. _John got a message to you which means he still wants to come home._ Sherlock sighed deeply, shaking his head and hoped the thought was right. He looked back up at the others and said, "This can only work if I go. Moriarty would not waste his time on you." 

Molly looked like she had been slapped across the face. "Your...your an arse Sherlock Holmes!" 

Sherlock sighed feeling like he was alright at war. "That's not what I meant Molly. From the start this has been about him and me. What he did and is still doing because he wants to destroy me." Sherlock turned his gaze to the floor, it was getting harder to cope with his emotions and even more so in front of the people he started to grow a small fondness for. _John is my heart. My heart his hurting, breaking, and without it, without him, I'm nothing._

Mycroft placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. He looked out at the others, his face impassive. "Despite how we _feel_ about this entire situation, Sherlock is right. If he is not there then Moriarty would not hesitant to kill any of you. He is our distraction and our protection against that monster. This is the only way it can work." 

Sherlock turned his gaze towards Mycroft and gave him a half hearted smile. Mycroft lightly squeezed his shoulder in return and then removed his hand. Sherlock felt at a loss when Mycroft pulled his hand away. _I am thankful for you brother mine._ His eyes had told the elder Holmes. Mycroft eyes in return had said it all. _And I for you brother dear._

"Then it's settled. Anthea already has surveillance on..."

"I want to be a part of this plan," Molly suddenly blurt out cutting Mycroft off. All heads turned towards her. 

Mycroft turned his full attention towards the supposed quiet mousy woman and felt she was becoming increasingly impossible to deal with. _Is all the people my dear brother associates with just a little mad?_ "I do not think that would be most wise Ms. Hooper," Mycroft said flatly. 

Molly turned her attention to the elder Holmes, her eyes narrowing on him. "Sherlock is hurt and we have no idea what kind of state John and Greg will be in. I'm going so I can help if they need any medical…" 

Sherlock could see the pain in her eyes and interrupted her by saying, “Agreed. Molly would be most useful if my wound might reopen.”

“Yeah,” Molly said a little bewilder that Sherlock agreed.

Mycroft pulled Sherlock off to the side out of ear shot of the others. "You cannot be serious," Mycroft scowled. 

"Oh, but I am brother dear," Sherlock huffed, annoyed that his brother was questioning him.  
“You’re not the one I am worried about not getting yourself killed. You cannot allow them to do this,” Mycroft insisted.  
“You saw how determined they are Mycroft. If you can convince them otherwise, then by all means do, but I assure you they will not heed to any warnings or threats. They want to be a part of this.”  
Mycroft sighed. He hated how right Sherlock was on this matter and hated the thought of them risking their lives when they had no clue what they would find on the other side. His gaze shifted on Sherlock’s face for a moment and saw something flicker behind his eyes. Raising an eye brow Mycroft asked, “You have a plan to make sure they still feel like they a part of this and yet it will keep them safe?”  
“Obviously,” Sherlock said looking over towards the others. “We can’t let them walk into something like this Mycroft. That would be completely idiotic. Besides, this is still between him and me.”  
“And me now brother mine,” Mycroft growled. He hated that his Greg was at the mercy of that crazed psychopath and he would make sure to torture the madman the moment that Mycroft had him.  
“Then you trust me?” Sherlock asked popping Mycroft out of his thoughts.  
Mycroft nodded. “Of, course.”  
They walked back over towards the group who looked very wound up and put off by the Holmes brothers discussing their plans out of ear shot.  
“We understand that you all want to help and I assure you that I will not discredit you from doing so but in order for us to come out of this unharmed then you must listen to me.” Sherlock hoped that they gave him no lip because they were wasting time as it was. _I could have been inside that place and found John by now._ The thought made him growl in his head. 

“As long as we work together and you do not put us off Sherlock,” Molly said.  
Sherlock couldn’t help but admire her at the moment. She had done so much for him in the past and wondered what she ever saw in him that determined her to stick around. It was something he needed to ask her later so he filed it away in his mind palace for future conversation. “I assure you Molly that I will not put you off as it were.” 

“Well, that’s settled but I still don’t understand how this plan is going to work,” Irene huffed. “We don’t know anything about this place or if he has it booby trapped.”

“I have my men working on that now,” Mycroft said lazily. He picked off an invisible piece of lint off of his jacket. Sherlock was the only one that could see how nerves he was about all this and it for once made Sherlock nerves too.

“What do you mean their working on it?” Irene asked.

Suddenly Anthea walked into the dining room where she had left them, caring a laptop in hand and headed over to where Mycroft was standing. He had her set it down on the table as he took a seat in front of it. She was looking over his right shoulder and Sherlock was looking over his left as they viewed a live footage feed.

The view was of someone who was walking outside because at the moment, the footage was of them looking down at their feet as they walked, clearing seeing dirt, rocks, and grass. Then they paused to look up to get a visional on a stone wall that stood about ten feet from the ground with barbwire across the top. It was also likely to assume that the wall most likely surrounded the entire place. The only way to get it was either aerial or through the front gate. Which neither seemed to be the better of the two options.

“I think we should do both,” Mycroft said after a few moments of silence.

“It seems we haven’t another option,” Sherlock grumbled. He hated that they couldn’t have the element of surprise. But, maybe that was for the best. He wanted to get his John out as quickly as possible.

Suddenly the camera began to shake and they could hear someone chocking.

_“Well, what have we here? A little cockroach for me to step on. Who are you working for?”_

__“Work for? Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, I’m just out for a walk. That’s all, I swear.” The voice behind the camera sounded genially scared, Sherlock noted and was wondering if he was sent like a pig to the slaughter.

 _“Forgive me if I don’t tend to believe all that I hear.”_ In one quick move the person was turned to face his attacker. They watched in horror as Moran pulled out a knife and began to stab the man in the gut. He then began to search the body and realized the camera was hidden within the dead man’s glasses. _A warning to whoever this is. If you so much as touch foot here than you’re the next one my knife will get friendly with and trust me when I say I won’t be as forgiving._ Moran threw down the glasses and stomped on them in order to break them so the signal would be lost.

“Well, that’s in then. He’s going to move them again before we can even do anything too…” Irene began to spout but Sherlock gaze silenced her and everyone else in the room.

He turned to Mycroft and asked, “Did you hear what Moran said?”

“All too clear brother mine,” Mycroft said as he turned to Sherlock. “It puzzles me too.”

“Can someone please enlighten us?” Molly grumbled, curious if this is how John felt half the time.

“When Moran was addressing the camera he did not mention myself nor Mycroft. He said, “whoever this is,” instead of us.”

“What could that possible mean?” Anderson asked.

Sherlock refrained himself from rolling his eyes at Anderson less then intelligent observation as usually. “It means that we might not be the only ones looking for them,” Sherlock said as the reality began to hit him…hard. “We need to get there. We need to get them out!” Sherlock was fluttering around the room like a humming bird on caffeine; to anxious to go after his friends so he could bring them back to where they belonged.

“Sherlock calm down. You’re going to break open your stitches before we even leave,” Molly muttered trying to calm him down. She hated it when he was so jittery that he couldn’t even stand still for one bloody second.

“Mycroft we need to go. It’s now or never,” Sherlock spat, heading for the door.

Mycroft looked at everyone and nodded. “We have a plan set. Everyone remember timing is everything.”

Everyone nodded and headed out the door. 

It took a little more time than they anticipated to find the place and the only way to get to it was by air or by boat which still gave them more of the element of surprised than they previous thought possible. 

Sherlock was the first one to jump out of the boat. “Molly, I need you to remain here for now. We can’t risk you getting shot.” 

“But, I want to go with you. Please, Sherlock,” Molly insisted. 

Sherlock shook his head. “I need you safe.” 

Molly hated that she had to stay behind but she didn’t see much choice in the matter. 

“The rest of you will follow Anthea marks, on her count,” he said as he turned to look at her. “Ready?” 

Anthea looked almost excited. She pulled the radio up to her mouth and said, “On my mark.”  
A male voice came over the radio and said, “Target is lock. Fire when ready.” 

Anthea looked from Mycroft to Sherlock. Both men nodded and she was more than happy to speak the finally command that would hopefully save the day. “Fire.” 

*****

Moran returned to the bedroom where he had left his boss and saw all three sleeping soundly. It was a weird sight for him to see his boss like that but it wasn’t the strangest thing either. He lightly tapped Jim whispering, “Jim? I need to have a word.” 

He watched as Jim turned over and looked at him through tired eyes. _God, he is so cute when he first wakes up._

“What is it tiger?” Jim purred in his thick Irish accent which sent a shiver down Moran’s spin. 

Moran swallowed hard and had to keep himself from launching forward to capture Jim’s lips with his own. “I need to speak with you.” 

Jim stretched and then slipped carefully out from underneath the covers as to not wake the other two sleeping beauties. Moran was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself as they walked over by the door because Jim insisted he wanted to remain in the room just in case either woke. 

“Jim, I feel that we have been more then compromised since the situation with Gip. We should have already begun to move. I feel it would be in our best interest to do so at this time.” 

The look on his bosses face went from one of a groggy sleep to the look of a madman who truly hated to be told what he should be doing and more so from his first in command. “You feel it’s in our best interest to flee?” Moriarty growled. He looked over this shoulder at the two sleeping figures on the bed and hated the thought of moving them. They were safe here. Moriarty made sure of that. “I thought my first in command was capable of handling anything. That’s what I hired you for, wasn’t it? Now, you’re saying to me you are incapable of doing your blood job.” 

Moran could see that his lovable Jim was gone and that the criminal master Moriarty had taken hold. _Back to being sir it is then._ Moran thought. He loved it when his boss let him call him Jim. It made him feel important but when Jim was mad it was always sir. 

“No, sir! That’s not what I meant. But, I do feel that we have be compromised.” 

"We are not compromised and if you think differently then maybe I should get someone who I know can do your job twice as better to make sure there are not slip ups." 

Moran said nothing. 

“Good. Now, I am sure you can handle this. Whatever this is, correct?” Moriarty grumbled, clearly unhappy. 

“Yes, sir,” Moran said, hating that he was being put off. _If you would just listen to me Jim. Please, listen to me._

“That’s my good boy. Now, off your pop,” Moriarty shoed him off as he turned and headed back to the bed. 

Moran stared for a moment when he watched his bosses naked form slip back underneath the covers and curled up behind John. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t jealously over the sight before him. He more than wished to go cuddle up next to them but he had a job to do. So, with putting such feeling aside, he turned and left the room. 

*****

John turned over after he heard the door closed and met Moriarty’s gaze. “Everything alright?”

Moriarty smiled softly as he asked, “Have you been awake this whole time pet?” 

John softly smiled back. “Not the whole time, no. Just heard that something might be compromised?” 

“Nothing is compromised my lovely little pet. We are safe here,” Moriarty reassured him. He reached out and began to run his hand through John’s short sandy hair. “I meant what I said Johnny. You belong to me and I promise I will not let anyone hurt you. You do know that, don’t you?” 

John slowly nodded. “Of, course.” 

“Good, now go back to sleep lover,” Moriarty cooed as he leaned in a kissed the tip of John’s nose. Then to Moriarty’s surprise, John leaned in and kissed Moriarty on the lips. It was gentle and soft, something they both clearly enjoyed. Moriarty was the one to break the kiss as he pulled back to stare into the crystal blue orbs. “Sleep,” he whispered. 

John smiled softly as he closed his eyes and slowly began to drift off once more. 

Moriarty watched him. _You really are my John, aren’t you? I’d do anything for you. Anything._ With that thought in mind he slowly began to drift off back to sleep.

 

Suddenly there was a loud blast that shook the whole foundation and all three snapped awake. Moriarty leaped off the bed and began to rush to pull on his clothes when he heard a loud noise coming from the bed. 

Greg was holding onto John tightly because it had seemed John was having another PTSD episode. Moriarty rushed to his side and began to speak softly to him. “John, come on John. We need you to snap out of this. You’re not back in Afghanistan you’re in London.” He turned to Greg and encouraged him to speak. 

“John, its Greg. You’re in London with me. Do you remember?” Greg asked but John kept thrashing about. “John, please. Try to remember where you are. Remember Sherlock.” 

At that moment John’s mind went into a reel of emotions when he had first met the infamous Sherlock Holmes to the moment he saw his “not dead” flatmate jump for the boat to try and save him. That seemed to help, although it did make Moriarty a little angry. 

Just then the door flew open and in rushed Moran. “We have to leave, now!” 

"What the hell was that?" Moriarty shouted.

"A missile just blast open the front gate!" Moran shouted.

Without a moment to lose, Moriarty rushed over to the dresser that had once had the lube bottle on it and pulled out two pairs of jeans and white t-shirts. Then he rushed over to a closet to found their shoes and handed it to them. John was coherent enough now to realize what was happening and did not argue to put the clothes on. Greg followed John’s lead and they quickly pulled on the clothes. 

“Come on!” Moran snapped as to so badly to say, _"I told you so._ But he didn't dare. He would just gloat in silence. 

Moriarty walked over to John and looked into his eyes. “You’re mine no matter what happens pet. Understood?” 

John felt himself nod despite everything that had happened up to this point so far. _Maybe he really has gotten to me._

Moran rushed over to Greg and grabbed hold of his hand, which the DI did not pull away from. “Sir, please. No time.” He yelled at Moriarty. 

Moriarty grabbed hold of John’s hand and without a second thought, they rushed out the room and down the hall to the stairs because they had to cut through the main hall to get to destination. If they made it there in time. Then he knew none of them would be able to stop them. It was their one shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming closer to the end my dears. Few more to go I think and I cannot wait to see how it will fully turns out. I'm so glad you have stuck this fair with me and I do hope that my next chapter will be as exciting as it is shocking. 
> 
> You're comments really help to keep me going. Thank you so much for reading.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I think it is by fair my favorite one. I know there will be a lot of questions afterwards so please read my end notes.

_It was like a hurricane that suddenly blew them all away._

As the four reached the main hall at the bottom of the stairs the front door was forced open with a small control blast. It made them stop dead in their tracks.

Sherlock was the first to file into the hall, along with Anthea, Mycroft, Anderson, and Donavon following suit. “Let him go Jim.” Sherlock held up a gun, pointing it in Moriarty’s direction.

Moriarty had moved John to stand in front of him, pulling a gun out and placing it the side of John’s head, along with Moran doing the same with Greg. “No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way," Moriarty pouted.

Sherlock raised an eye brow. "Sorry to have disappointed you."

"You weren't the ones I was expecting," Moriarty sneered. 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Moriarty. “I don’t know what you mean.” Even though he did know, he was a little more than relieved to learn that they were the one to get there first. 

Moriarty smiled big. “Of, course not. You’re not as clever as most think you to believe. No, Sherly dear, I have the proof of that standing before me.” He said as he pulled John a little more into him. John closed his eyes, hating that he was put back in just about the same situation when last he learned that Sherlock wasn’t dead. 

Sherlock’s grip tightens on the gun seeing John’s discomfort. “And yet here I am standing before you with a gun aimed at your head,” Sherlock said flatly.

“Ah, yes. Just like back at the boat dock. Predicable. Boring. However, I was a little impressed by how you took a daring leap to save them but you should have seen how futile it was. Blinded by sentiment and still rightfully so. By the way, how’s your wound?” Moriarty cooed. 

“It’s healing,” Sherlock said sounding as bored as he possible could.

“Sherlock?” John mumbled softly. His brow furrowed as he looked at his friend, his doctor side kicked in, he could see the pain on Sherlock’s face. _Oh, Christ. He did get shot. Damn it Sherlock, you shouldn’t be here. You need to be resting. This is entirely my fault._

“Ooh, don’t worry about him, pet. He looks like he has been healing up nicely and I am sure that is all thanks to big brothers help. Am I right Mycroft?” Moriarty mused. 

Mycroft also held a gun up in his hand that was pointed in Moriarty’s direction. “Let them go,” he growled.

“Now who's repeating themselves? Okay, I'll bite. What if I don’t?” Moriarty purred. “Are you going to offer the same things as last time? I’m still waiting for you to give me that hand job Mycroft.”

In one fluent motion, Mycroft raised his arm well above his head, aiming the gun at the ceiling and fired his gun making almost everyone around him jump. He lowered his gun, aiming it back at the master criminal. “If you don’t, I assure you that I will enjoy your torture that will be most gruesome and painfully slow,” Mycroft said coldly.

Moriarty burst out into a fit of giggles. “Ooh, thank you for that My. I’d rather enjoyed that. Now, here is an idea for you my dear. What you could always do is to carve your initials into my chest if you like. I promise that I would treasure them for a life time like I hope you would with yours.”

Mycroft swallowed hard. His gaze traveling over to Greg for only a second and he was a little more relieved when he saw his lover giving Moriarty a, _I’m going to bloody well kill you,_ glare.

“But, perhaps we could save that for another time. We are on a bit of a schedule after all. Although, I really hate that we must cut our losses but I’m afraid we must dash.” 

Sherlock took a step forward forcing Moriarty to freeze. “I swear it Jim. If you do not let them go I will never stop. I will hunt you down and I will burn the heart out of you.”

“Been there. Done that. So boring.” Moriarty sang.

“I swear it Jim,” Sherlock growled; his tone deadly.

“More threats. So, so boring. Can’t you come up with anything new? Unless your plan is to bore me to death in which case you might, just might, succeed.” He paused for a moment, a devilish grin on his face. “But, now look at it from Johnny boy’s point of view. I could give him everything Sherlock.” Moriarty purred. “Do you really want to stand in the way of him finding happiness?”

Sherlock meant John’s gaze and for the first time what he deduced about his friend, he really wished he hadn’t.

“He is mine Sherlock and we both know I don’t share well with others.” He stuck out his tongue, leaning forward; he licked the base of John’s neck up to his ear lobe, forcing a soft whimper from John lips. “Mmmm, listen to that Sherly dear. He wants me.”

John’s gaze focused on Sherlock’s. He could see the hurt behind his friend’s eyes or maybe it was betrayal. Whatever the case, John didn’t like it. “Sherlock, I don't even know where I should...This isn't about...I want you to know that…What I'm trying to say...you are...I mean...Christ...”

“Shhhh, pet. No need to explain yourself to him because you don’t belong to him,” Moriarty cooed in his ear.

Sherlock let his expression soften slightly as he half smiled at John and said, “It's alright John. I understand. And for once Jim is correct on the fact of how you don’t belong to me.” He paused before he added, “You belong with me.”

Silence. 

John smiled at Sherlock and this time it reached his eyes. "You're an idiot,” he muttered.

Sherlock smiled a little bigger but then frowned when suddenly there was a loud banging noise along with the sound of footsteps running and stomping coming from every which way inside the building and out. Men in all black and wearing camouflage paint on their faces as to hide their identity, stormed around them forming a wide circle so no one could escape. 

Sherlock saw the confused look on Moriarty’s face and asked, “Not yours?”

Moriarty gazed around him until his eyes landed on Sherlock. He looked as bewilder as Sherlock felt and grumbled, “No.”

Just then Sherlock moved everyone quickly into the center of the room, back to back and waved over the other four to join them in the circle. Moriarty did not hesitate as he pushed John quickly over towards Sherlock, Moran following suit with Greg.

“Give John your gun,” Sherlock insisted to Moriarty when he now stood shoulder to shoulder with the criminal.

“Why don’t you?” Moriarty hissed.

“Oi, for fuck sake. Someone give John a gun!” Greg shouted.

Moriarty handed John his gun while Moran made sure he stood close to Moriarty and John because they were his first and second priorities.

“Who did you piss of this time Jim? Did you not “fix” something right for someone?” Sherlock huffed as he pointed his gun towards one of the figures that stood only a few feet from him. He quickly made calculations and concluded that any attempt to fight back would be a futile one. All had to remain calm.

“Not to my knowledge” Moriarty replied coolly. “Although, we did have a tiny bit of a situation prior to this.”

“Such as?” Sherlock asked, curious about someone getting in under the madman’s nose without him realizing it. _Interesting._

“I do not see how that would be related to…”

John suddenly cut off Moriarty as he blurts out, “It was Gip.”

“So, something more did happen besides what he had done to you, eh pet?” Moriarty huffed.

Sherlock looked horrified but John began to talk quickly for fear of what the two geniuses might say more. “He didn’t tell me anything about who he was working for but he did take a picture of me and said that since the moment I moved in with you, Sherlock, that I’ve become one of the most wanted men amongst the criminal world. There are so many out there that would love to make the Holmes brothers suffer or to mold them at their will and I would be just the right pressure point in order to do so.”

Sherlock and Mycroft shared a glance. This was a bit not good.

"Ooh hello. Are you ready for the story?" 

All heads turned toward the sickening-sweet Irish voice that came from the top of the stairs. It felt like all time had suddenly come to a streaking halt.

“Bloody hell,” Greg spat, “Theirs two of them!”

Sherlock looked towards Jim and saw the shocked look on his face before the criminals expression changed to blank slate. It made Sherlock relieved to some degree that at least he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t deduce the full truth. He was sure he still knew how Moriarty survived the bullet to the brain but now he realized it wasn’t the right Moriarty. 

"Once upon a time in a kingdom far away from here, there lived two brothers. They would do anything for one another and I mean anything. Well, one day the eldest brother suddenly vanished into thin air leaving his other half behind. Horrible things happened in the kingdom that day, things that the younger brother couldn't handle alone. Tortured day after day and slowly slipping away until one day the eldest brother finally came to his brother’s aid. The young brother worshipped the eldest brother as the king he knew him to be.

"But, as time passed things once again began to change within the kingdom. The younger brother began to slowly question the things the eldest brother was doing. Well, that seemed to anger the eldest brother because he saw it as defiance. So, he sent the young brother away and into the very pits of hell itself. 

"You see the eldest brother wanted to create the perfect weapon using his scared little twin as the perfect little lab rat. All seemed right within the eldest brother’s world. However, in those pits of hell the young brother found a little shred of hope. A man that came forth, his new king to save him from the hell he was tossed into. Secretly the young brother had been plotting and had fooled them all. Now, he was going to take everything from the eldest brother. Everything he treasured so near and dear to him. All will suffer under his name and that my dears is something I look for to most. The end." 

Sherlock saw Jim shift from one foot to the other seeming a little uncomfortable.

“Well, look at you lot. With your little guns in hand, it truly is adorable. Isn’t brother?” the man cooed.

Sherlock leaned over towards Jim and whispered, “Story telling runs in the family I suppose?”

Jim just grumbled under his breath as he looked up at his brother and smiled big but Sherlock could see the fire burning within Jim’s eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, always getting to the heart of it, eh Jimmy?”

Jim tilted his head from side to side making his neck crack, doing his best to keep his composer. “Once again James. What are you doing here?”

“Really? Where’s the brotherly compassion Jimmy? I’d rather thought you would have been thrilled that I wasn’t dead. That I found a way around you’re little plan. Aren’t you happy Jimmy?”

“James…” Jim said softly.

“I mean just look at the Holmes brothers if you need help with brotherly companionship. Grant it, they do have their differences and some rough patches but Mycroft would do anything for Sherlock. Why not you for me?” James asked.

“James…” Jim tried again even though he knew it was pointless to try to reason with his little brother. 

“I did everything you asked of me brother and yet you still thought I would die for you. Well, in a way I did. See, it took for you to exile me to help me realize that I don’t need you. I never needed you and isn’t that just so wonderful?” James cooed as he began to decent the stairs. 

Sherlock began to scan his surroundings. Questions began to flash before his eyes. _Were they only surrounded inside the home or did James have more men that surrounded the outside too? Would running back out the front door be the best option or should they remain inside? Was Molly okay?_ The last question really made him wonder.

As James hit the bottom step and tilted his head to the side, he cooed, "James Moriarty. Hi." He looked at Sherlock and smiled big. "James? James from the roof top of Bart's? Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But, I guess that was rather the point." 

"Stealing you're brothers lines? How mundane and ordinary of you," Sherlock said flatly. 

When James narrowed his eyes just then, Sherlock could see the difference between the two of them. Jim would have said something clever but as for James who was an ex-soldier (at least that's what he gathered from his story); Sherlock now realized taunting him wasn't one of his better ideas. _Almost like John._

James put his hands in his pockets and began to slowly make his way over towards the small group and stopped right in front of John who was pointing a gun at his head. “Hello, Captain Watson. I’m glad we finally get a chance to meet. Do you want to know why?”

John didn’t really want to answer him but living with Sherlock and being around Moriarty, he found himself answering to question more often than not. “Why?”

“Because, we are alike, you and I. Almost the same in every way,” James cooed.

It almost sounded like Jim’s voice, Sherlock noted, but he could tell James was an octave lower then Jim. He was starting to understand a little more about his arch-enemy and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying a little of this. 

John's hand tightens just a little on the gun when the other Moriarty stopped before him. _Am I catnip for crazies to be here just for their amusement?_ "I don't see how you and I are the same." 

"Oh, no? How about the fact of I know what hell is like. To watch your brother in arms die before you and knowing you couldn't do shit to save them. But, you still replay it over and over in your dreams hoping the outcome is different somehow. That you finally got to them in time but sadly it never changes. It was foolish to think even your dreams could change your reality." 

John's hand began to twitch slightly. Only James, Sherlock, Jim and Mycroft noticed. 

"How about this then? I know how it is to blindly follow someone you care for and trust without question even though sometimes there actions seem over the line. But, you believe deep down that their actions and reasoning behind them are for a good cause. At least that's what you keep telling yourself to justify it." 

John's hand was starting to shake a little more and this time Greg noticed. He gently placed his hand on John's lower back in hopes it would help to ground him some. John didn't move.

"So, without rhythm or reason you become mixed up in one of the most fucked up situations of your life but you're enjoying it. The thrill of it, the chase, boarding on that thin line of your sense of what is right and what is wrong. I know you like the danger, the feeling of power, taking a life, and all for what?" 

The gun felt so heavy in John's hand now and he felt like he was almost unable to hold it up any longer.

"You threw yourself into a world you don’t know and follow someone who is just as blind as you are and later on who discarded you like you were rubbish. All life as you know it ended for you that day. You feel worthless and you feel as though no one cares but I'm here to tell you that you're not alone Captain." He lifted his hand towards John's hand that held the gun and slowly began to push John's hand down placing it at his side. "Two years is a long time. Not to mention my idiotic brother showed you that you have a darker side just begging to be released. I could help you blossom into that warrior we all know you to be. They want to control you Captain Watson. Not me and not my employer. We want to set you free." 

John had gone deadly still. So many things racing through his mind and the one that jumped out at him the most were that this crazy lunatic before him actually understood how he felt inside and out. No one, not even Sherlock, could understand that. 

"John," Greg murmured in his ear. "You aren't alone. I'm here for you and you know deep down Sherlock cares. So does Mycroft. We will never give up on you. Never." 

All John wanted was too cruel in on himself. He was so done with it all. Suddenly he pushed his way past James and rushed half way up the stairs, shocking them all by lifting the gun to the side of his head. 

"Oh, Christ John," Greg spat. 

"That would be most unwise Doctor Watson," Mycroft stated. Sherlock could hear the little trimmer in his brother's tone and honestly made him a little nervous. 

"Silly Johnny boy. Now, who's being a drama queen?" Jim said a little irritated. 

Sherlock pushed his way past the little group and stood at the foot of the stairs looking up at his best friend. The man who made him better and without him Sherlock knew he would surely parish. "John, I would stand here and beg you for your forgiveness but I know that's not what you want. I can try and take your pain away but I know that's impossible. What I can offer is this, that it would be just the two of us against the world, side by side, but this time it’s all or nothing.” 

John didn’t know what to do or what to say. Never had he heard Sherlock speak so tenderly before. Looking into those green-blue eyes of his friend, John began to realize what he really wanted. “It’s always been you,” John said softly. “With your annoying habits, whining like a five year old, solving puzzles, being the genius that you are, you can be a downright idiot Sherlock. But, that’s how you gotten me hooked. It’s not about showing off or proving who is more cleverer, it’s about the small things that made me feel wanted. You gave me all of that. All that I needed and then you took it from me.” 

“John, I…” 

John held up his hand to silence Sherlock. “I understand the reasoning behind it but the problem is Sherlock that you keep me in the dark sometimes and I can’t have that. Not again. If you want this…if you want us to work then I need you to always be open with me. I can’t be left in the dark on your plans no matter how little it may seem to you. I’ll try to be supportive of the choices you make no matter how dangerous the situation might seem but we need to work together.” 

Sherlock nodded his head like a child being told the rules of don’t break anything in the house when the parents are gone and if said child does then that child will be severely punished upon the parents arriving home. “Whatever you want John. I will do it.” 

John snorted as he walked down the stairs to stand in front of Sherlock “Good. Now, about them,” John whispered as he pointed to the men with the guns but kept his eyes on Sherlock. “Ideas?” 

“The calculations are 58% to 42% which puts us in a most difficult position at this time,” Sherlock replied. 

“Which means a bit not good,” John muttered in aggravation. “We need a way out of this. I don’t want to go with them Sherlock but if you can’t figure this out I don’t see any other alternative.” He paused before he added, “And I know I won’t be able to keep myself from fully breaking. So, think of something to get us out of this.” 

Sherlock was about to retreat into his mind palace when he felt the cold barrel of a gun touch the back of his neck. He stilled, keeping his focus on John’s face as a hand grabbed hold onto his coat and pulled him away. James stood only a few feet away from him. “What it’s going to be Captain? Going to go back to your boring little life to a man that never really respected you in the first place or do you choose to be with someone who can make you into the man you were meant to be.” 

John knew what he wanted to say but he felt as though he needed to delay time and then it hit him. “No!” 

James looked a little puzzled by the sudden outburst. “No?” 

“No!” John repeated again. “Why should I have to choose? I’ve been doing a lot of choosing lately and I’m just about sick of it. Why must I choose when I know what I want?”  
“Okay, then. What is it that you want Captain?” James murmured with a devilish grin crossing his face. 

“I choose…this,” John said as he held up a small little box. A smile crossed his face and for the first time he was delighted about this plan. 

“What’s that? A detonator? Are you going to blow us up Captain?” James chuckled. 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” John said and he moved his finger over the button. 

“Really? You actually think that you’re going too…” 

John looked to Sherlock and silently asked, in which Sherlock gave one nod in response so John pushed the button which sounded a load siren to begin to scream all around them.

James looked completely flabbergasted as people began to flee out of the mansion. “Where the hell did you get that from?” 

John smiled loving that he was in on this plan. “Your brother.” 

James turned his attention towards Jim who was now off to the side of him. “You bastard! I’m going to…”

“Time to leave brother and please let the door hit you on the way out,” Jim said happily. 

James found that there was one way out of this for him. If he didn’t at least try then his employer would be most displeased. So, he pulled out a gun and spun, aiming it right at John. There was only time for one person to react into order to save him. 

When the bullet went into his chest and his body hit the hard floor below, John heard nothing else around him as he rushed to Jim’s side. “You…but, why?” 

“Because, I think I’m in love with you Johnny,” Jim said weakly. 

Moran was now by Jim’s side. “You’re brothers dead.” 

“Thank you Sebby. I can always count on you.” 

“Wasn’t me,” Moran said as he pointed over to Sherlock who dropped his gun to the floor.  
Jim meant Sherlock’s gaze and at that moment there was more of an understanding between the two of them then their ever had been before. 

“Come on we need to get him up,” John shouted but when Greg came to their aid and began to try and move Jim, it all seemed pointless. Jim was coughing up blood and it didn’t look like he would make it even to the boat. 

“Stop it!” Jim chocked out. “Leave me. All of you.” 

“Sir, I’m not going to leave you,” Moran insisted. 

“Jim, I…I don’t want to leave you either. You’re my patience damn it. I need…” 

“Whatever it is you’re going to say Johnny, please don’t. We both know where your heart lies. Let’s leave it at that.” Jim began to cough up more blood. “Get the hell out of here before this place blows up.” 

“Thank you Jim,” John said and he leaned down towards Jim’s lips. He gently kissed the master criminal and then slowly pulled away. Their eyes meant for only a moment and John could see a single tear in the corner of Jim’s eye. 

Sherlock walked over and placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “Time to go John.” 

Jim looked up at Sherlock and said, “Take care of our boy, would ya?” 

Sherlock nodded as he helped John to his feet. “Catch you later.”  
Jim smiled as he sang, “No you won’t.” 

Everyone but Jim and Moran and James body remained in the building when they rushed down the hill towards the boats. Molly was still sitting there laughing and caring on with the guards he had left with her.

“Oh, my god. What happened?” Molly cried as she looked at all of them. 

“No, time. We must leave now!” Sherlock snapped as everyone filed onto the boats and began to take off. It was only a few feet away when the entre mansion suddenly blew up into a fireball of flames and smoke. All watched in silence as the sun began to gaze over the horizon. A beautiful morning to the end of their horrid past and hopefully the next chapters to come will make this seem like just another grim fairy tale to their fucked up mixed up world. Something John now realized that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter left and then this story will be completed. Let me know what you think. I love your comments. Oh, and this isn't going to be "the end." Thanks for reading up till this point. You all have been amazing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and see my end notes please.

It only had been twelve hours ago but it seemed like years since the events had taken them to one of the darkest places they knew. John was sitting up in a bed and looking around a room he did not recognize. It might have worried him a little before but when he looked to the bed next to his own and saw a mess of dark curls peeking out from underneath the covers, John smiled at the sight knowing very well that that was his flatemate, his best friend, and possibly his lover alive and almost well sound asleep.

 _What am I going to say to you when you awake?_ He thought to himself. _I should probably be mad and scream at you. Possibly even punch you, which I still might, but you came for me._ He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. He felt like in a way he might have betrayed Sherlock. Maybe he had. For some reason unknown to him, half of him felt like he wanted to be with Jim - Moriarty. But, even if he went with Jim – Moriarty – John knew he still wouldn’t have been truly happy. _There is only one man that I know of that could truly make me feel the way I should._ Lost in his thoughts, John didn't hear the door open to the room because when he opened his eyes he was surprised to see Mycroft with his umbrella, swinging it in hand and Greg following close behind him, both making their way over to him. John smiled thankful something’s never changed. 

"About time you woke up," Greg whispered a smile on his face. 

"Glad to see you're up and around," John whispered back hoping to not wake the sleeping Sherlock.

“Ya, sleep helped a lot,” Greg replied.

 

“Good to see you are a wake John and I image you are quite well?” Mycroft asked in his usually soft spoken manner.

“As well as one can be for now. Still trying to wrap my head around it all,” John whispered.

“Isn’t that the bloody truth,” Greg huffed.

“Agreed. There are still quite a few questions that need answers too but I’m afraid I’m not sure how to retrieve that information seeing how half the party is no more.”

“Oh, come now Mycroft. You don’t believe that,” Sherlock said slowly sitting up. He smiled at John who smiled back at him. “We have plenty to go on.”

“Stop that,” John muttered.

“Stop what?” Sherlock asked a little confused.

“Once again you’re doing the face,” John huffed pinching the brim of his nose.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed as he asked. “What face?”

“The, ‘We all know what is going on face,’ because we don’t know what is going on Sherlock,” John spat in frustration.

“I still don’t understand how that’s a “face” but if I do need to elaborate then I shall.”

“Thank you,” John said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now, let’s look at it from…” Sherlock began when suddenly the door opened and in rushed Anthea dragging Irene behind her.

“Sorry to interrupt sir but I think Ms. Alder has a few things she’d like to get off her chest,” Anthea pulled Irene closer to them and then stood behind her so Irene couldn’t get away.

Irene sighed as she looked from one broken face to the other but the one she couldn’t stand the most was how irate John looked. It sent a shiver down her spine. “I am sorry that you had to suffer through…”

“You knew?” John spat cutting Irene off. “This whole bloody time you knew where we were and you still…”

“I never had dreamt it was going to turn out the way it had,” Irene insisted.  
“And still working with the enemy…” John trailed off.  
Yes, I was working for James and so I thought…”

“For?” Sherlock interrupted his brow furrowed. 

Irene looked to him, her lips pursed in a thin line. “Yes,” she murmured.

“You weren’t working with him but for him? So, you have no idea who his employer is?”

“Not a clue,” she said locking her gaze with Sherlock’s. 

“Oi, for fucks sakes Sherlock. She’s lying. That’s what she does best after all,” John hissed.

Sherlock studied her for a moment. This time he was able to deduce all he needed to know. “No, she is telling the truth.”

Mycroft frowned. “How can you be sure brother dear?”

“Well, brother mine, unlike most I have dealt with in the past, she didn’t have to tell us anything about the house plans at all. She could have let us go in fully blind and instead she gave me the information I needed in order to save them.” Sherlock looked from Greg and then to John, both men still looked irate but at least there was a little more understanding. He looked back at Irene and asked, “What was the plan?” 

Irene lowered her gaze, unable to meet anyone else’s. “The plan was to let Jim’s men take you all down so it was easier to get to John. My orders were to get him out and wait for the next phone call. It surprised me to see that James took matters into his own hands.”

“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you either,” John grumbled. However he was curious as to who would want him. _Why me?_

“I did have a feeling I was going to betrayed but when he never blew my cover I thought I was in the clear. That is until your girl here started to grill me on the fact of why I had the house plans. It seems she didn't fully believe me.”

All eyes turned towards Anthea. “When I learned that she was the one that told you about the mansion it dawned on me right then. We just had a little chat and I brought her in here.”

Irene half smiled feeling the achiness in her body from their little chat. “I am sorry but I had a lot at stake and I just couldn’t…”

Sherlock threw back his covers and the room became silent. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, slowly making his way over to Irene. Taking her hands in his own he lay his forehead against hers and whispered, “I saved you’re life and in a way you gave me back mine so we are square. Now, with that said here are some words of advice, if you ever darken my doorway again I will have no choice but to throw you to the wolves.” He pulled back seeing the shock and the tears in her eyes. _How ordinary._

“You don’t mean that. Surly you don’t mean that,” Irene whispered.

Sherlock began to pull away from her when she grabbed hold of his night shirt. “I know I told you once sentiment was a chemical defect found on the losing side. In a way I didn’t fully understand my own words mainly because I never expected to have someone to care for. Now, I will say this and to all who will listen to me. If anyone comes even within a hundred feet of Doctor John Watson with the intent to harm him, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

Irene slowly let go of Sherlock and began to back away from him. “I won’t last a week Sherlock.”

Sherlock turned his back on her and saw John staring at him. Those big blue eyes looked so beautiful and alive. _I almost lost John - my John - because of your selfishness. Never again._ “You’re right. You won’t.” He made his way over to John and took his hand in his own never speaking another word to Irene as Anthea pushed her out of the room.

“Thank you,” John said softly.

Sherlock smiled and squeezed John’s hand thankful that he had the man he loved back in his life.

But, before he could say anything more, Mycroft cleared his throat to force both to look towards him. “Sherlock may I have a word?” Mycroft asked.

“If you must,” Sherlock said as he turned back towards John. “I’ll be right back.”

“Obviously,” John snickered as he watched Sherlock walk towards Mycroft. Both Holmes brothers walked over to the other side of the room to make sure they were out of ear shot.

“Do you fully believe Ms. Alder?” Mycroft asked.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied, “Her actions were to help us not to harm us because whoever James was working for still might have a hold over her. She is afraid and wants our help. However, I am to decline her of my services, I still feel as though she has much more information to give. Might want to detain her for a bit.”

“Indeed. That was the plan. I just wanted to hear it from you,” Mycroft muttered.

Both men stole a glance and saw Greg and John both feeling around their necks.

“Do you think they will come back to us?” Sherlock asked a little unsure.

“Yes, Sherlock I do. We care for them so much and even though it’s not the greatest weapon to use, it is by far one of the best motivators there are.” Mycroft turned his attention back to Sherlock. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that they are back where they belong,” Sherlock said as he looked back at his older brother. “How about you?”

“Couldn’t be happier I suppose. Although, that could always change.”

“Agreed,” Sherlock muttered.

Suddenly they saw John throw back his covers and had Greg help him to his feet. From that point John made his way to the bathroom with Greg following close behind.

“Everything alright?” Sherlock asked but John waved him off.

“Fine Sherlock. Greg can help me. It’s okay,” John said as they disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

Mycroft could read the frustration on Sherlock’s face and wanted to say something of ease to the younger sibling. However, he couldn’t find his voice at the moment to do so. But, with John wanting Greg to help him, Mycroft had a pretty good idea since Greg went through the same hell; it was easier to talk to Greg. _Hopefully sometime soon he will tell me what happened. But, for now I will not push._

*****

John watched Sherlock walk over to the other side of the room so Mycroft and he could talk.

“It’s a bit weird isn’t it?” Greg asked.

“Hmm, oh, ya it’s a little odd,” John replied.

“Seeing them standing there talking just like nothing has changed,” Greg crossed his arms over his chest because he still felt unsure.

“Well, we both know that’s not quite true,” John said flashing back to Jim’s – Moriarty’s – words when they were back at the pool. _Will I ever be able to call him Moriarty again or will it always be Jim?_

Greg nodded as his hand lifted to his neck. “I feel a little at a loss John.”

John mirrored Greg’s actions as he said, “I know but we can help each other through this.”

“Right and I know they want to help too but I’m not ready to – you know – I just can’t,” Greg murmured.

“I feel the same way Greg,” John said letting out a sigh. He was a little unsure of what he should do.

“Maybe we give it a few weeks, ya? See how things go and then we can tell them.”

John nodded. “Sounds good to me.” There was a moment of silence before John spoke again. “Hey, can you help me to the loo?”

“Uh, sure,” Greg said a little hesitantly.

John threw back the covers as Greg helped him to stand and both made their way into the loo. He hated he had to turn Sherlock away because he knew how much the detective wanted to show how much he cared, but John wasn’t ready. Not yet away. “Thank you Greg. I’m glad I have you to lean on.” He said after the bathroom door was closed. 

“I hear ya,” Greg replied softly.

John began to strip off his clothes, craving for the hot water to beat against his pattered skin.

“Do you want me to stay?” Greg asked timidly his eyes darting around the room.

John stood before him fully nude. He didn’t feel shy around Greg with what they had shared together. It was almost felt natural to the doctor. “Greg, look at me." When Greg met his eye John continued. "Never feel awkward around me. Now, if you want to leave that is up to you. You got me in here which was the important part. But, I would understand if you wanted to leave.”

Greg smiled at him and said, “I’ll stay for you.” Greg watched John step into the show and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the wound on the doctor’s lower back. He hating that John would be forever branded by that psychopath who calmed that in the end he saved his life because of love. It made Greg’s stomach tighten in knocks that John was so close to giving into that monster. But, he was secretly delighted that John wasn’t going to push him away. No, it seemed like the good doctor needed him around and that, for Greg, felt great.

*****

Sherlock heard the shower turn on and frowned. “I should be the one in there,” he grumbled.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft said softly, “You need to give John space and time. He will come around. I assure you but you can’t cling to him like a cat.”

“He is my friend and as such I have to make sure he is alright,” Sherlock said as he started for the door but Mycroft reached out and grabbed hold of his sleeve to stop him.

“Sherlock, see reason on this. You cannot invade his space. He will clam up and will not want you around.”

Sherlock looked to his brother and studied him for a moment. “Greg doesn’t want to discuss the events of what happened, does he?”

Mycroft sighed, letting go of Sherlock’s sleeve. “No, he doesn’t. He said to give him some time. How much is unclear but I feel as though he wanted to speak to John on the matter.” 

Sherlock looked to his brother and hated that he was being forced to see reason. It was not most becoming of the Holmes brothers to have feelings of any kind, much less for someone besides themselves, but when happiness was on the line for the two men that could actually tolerate them; they didn’t have much of a choice. That’s if they wanted to keep them around.  
Without another word, Sherlock made his way over to one of the chairs and sat with his feet up in it and presumed his usually thinking pose as John called it, with his fingers steeled against his lips. “Stop that,” Sherlock hissed. 

Mycroft made his way over to the chair beside him, laying his umbrella to the side of the chair and said, “You’re not the only one who has to think about things brother dear. I’m in the same boat as you.” 

“I don’t care. Stop thinking. It’s distracting,” Sherlock sneered like a five year old child who distaste something he disliked. 

They both fell into silence, waiting for the door to the bathroom to open in hopes that their partners would have something more to say to them. It was hard for them but it was the most logical thing for them to do. 

*****

As John turned off the water and opened the curtain, Greg held out a towel to him. “Here ya go mate.” He smiled big, enjoying the sight of the soaking wet ex-army doctor before him. 

“What?” John asked as he took the towel and began to dry himself off. 

“Nothing,” Greg smirked. 

“You’re such a bad liar Inspector,” John said as he stepped out of the shower and was just a few inches away from Greg. 

“Takes one to know what Doctor,” Greg replied, the grin never wavering. 

Both men stood there a moment, holding the others gaze. It was like nothing they felt before when they finally felt themselves pull away after a soft and gentle kiss. 

“I - we shouldn’t - sorry…” Greg stammered. 

John rubbed the back of his head as he stepped back. He wrapped the towel around his waste in attempt to hide his growing arousal from the Inspector. “I’m sorry too. You’re right. We shouldn’t.”

“It’s just…” Greg began as he took a step closer towards the sandy haired man. “You make me feel – I don’t know – Christ, I do love Mycroft but what we went through…” Greg trailed off, unsure of his words. 

John put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to explain Greg. I feel the same. I’m still in love with Sherlock as crazy as that sounds but it’s the truth. I don’t mind us still hanging out and talking about them. Who else is going to listen to us? We need each other more now than ever before. Whatever that may in tell.” 

Greg nodded. Hoping that maybe they could still find comfort in the other when if they need too. “Well, I am sure they are wondering what we are doing in here.” 

“I’m sure they already have a pretty good idea,” John said as he began to slip on his clothes that had been sitting on a shelf for him thinking more than likely Sherlock had gotten them for him when they first arrived here. He put on the clothes and smiled at Greg who smiled back. “Ready to go home?” 

“A thousand times yes,” Greg murmured as they opened the door and headed out. 

*****

3 weeks later

John peeks his head as he quietly wraps on the open door. “May I come in?” 

Sarah looks up from her desk, tears welling up in her eyes. “John?” She breaths as she stands and rushes over to him. They embrace for what it feels like a life time and slowly pulls apart. “Where the hell have you been?” She wants it to sound snappy like she is made or irritated but it is weak and thankful. 

John smiled softly. “I have a lot to tell you, but for now I wanted to pop in and let you know that I’m okay. I also wanted to tell Mary. Is she here?” 

Sarah frowned. “She gave her noticed a few days ago. Said something came up and she had to leave.” 

“Oh,” John said surprised. _Maybe it’s for the best._ “Well, I just want you to know that…” Suddenly John’s phone chimed. He took it out and smiled down at the text. He then looked at Sarah who looked a little puzzled because she knew that chime sound all too well. 

_Baker Street. Come at once. If convenient. SH_

“I’m sorry Sarah. I must be off,” John said as he turned and started to head for the door but Sarah stopped him. 

“John? Is he?” Sarah asked timidly. 

_If inconvenient, come anyway. SH_

“Yes, Sarah he is. I’m sorry you had to found out this way. But I’ve really got to…” 

Sarah ‘s expression made him pause a moment. She looked sympathic. “I only have one request John.” 

_Could be dangerous. SH_

“Don’t let him hurt you again,” Sarah murmured before she turned and went back into her office, closing the door behind her.

John stood there a moment before he turned and headed out the door. Once in the cab he texted back Sherlock he was on his way to the address he had provided. 

*****

“Sherlock, Greg said to wait for him and his team,” John whispered. They were in a dark alleyway, about ready to storm into an old abandon warehouse where there had been a drug ring. 

“No time and besides you know as well as I that Lestrade’s men or incompetent,” Sherlock sneered. 

“For Christ sakes Sherlock, we can’t just…” but before John could finish his rant Sherlock had already found his way inside. “Why do I even bother?” 

It only took a few seconds for Sherlock to take in and success the situation and it took less than that for the two of them to take down the eight different blokes that tried to stop them. A few moments after, Lestrade’s men entered and all seemed to be okay until Greg grabbed hold of the two of them and started to grill them up and down. 

“Really? I asked you to do one thing Sherlock. One thing and you can’t listen? You’re not even listening now, are you?” Greg spat off, his whole demeanor screamed of irritation towards the pair. 

“We just signal handedly stopped this drug ring for you and this is how…” 

Greg shot Sherlock a look that made him snap his mouth shut. He then looked towards John and said, “I think it’s time John.” 

John brow furrowed as he lips pursed into a thin line. “I…” he began to say but then just nodded. “Agreed.” 

Greg looked back at Sherlock and hissed. “We will be by your place later. See you then.” He turned and stormed back over towards his car. 

Sherlock felt a little dumbfounded on what this was about. He began to success maybe it has to do them talking about what happened but Sherlock knew not to push as his brother had pointed out. And, sense he hadn’t it seemed like there was a little normalcy back around 221B but maybe a little wasn’t enough. 

*****

Later that evening, John was sitting in his armchair with Sherlock standing up by the window with violin in hand, playing a melody John had never heard him play. It began with an upbeat tempo and got a little sad and a little dark in the middle but it ended on a beautiful note. He half wondered if that wasn’t for him. 

Suddenly their door opened and in walked Greg with Mycroft close behind. John got up to greet Greg and the two went into the kitchen to prepare some tea while Sherlock and Mycroft stood over by the window. 

“I gather you know why we are here little brother?” Mycroft snide. 

“I suspect it has to do with my actions of either this evening brother mine,” Sherlock scowled. 

“Quite. For being you, I am sure.” 

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Sherlock snapped. 

“It means you can’t just storm in and think about the consequences of your action after the fact Sherlock,” Greg spat off. “What if John got shot or what if you got shot – again! You can’t lay your lives on the line for petty little things like a drug bust.” 

All eyes were on Greg. It surprised them, even he, himself, but it had to be said. 

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock finally said. 

John brought in the tea and they all sat down but John sat down in Sherlock’s chair while Greg took John’s. They forced the Holmes brothers to sit side by side on the couch. They would be lying if they said they hadn’t enjoyed that moment of control. 

“Now, I think it’s about time we had a chance to lay everything out on the table,” Greg began even though he was dreading this. 

“Agreed,” John said as he looked from Greg to the Holmes brothers. He took a deep breath and began to explain and he was thankful that either Holmes interrupted him while he did so. When he was finished he said, “I’m sorry Sherlock. I feel like this is my fault. That I brought this upon us and that I somehow betrayed you.” Unable to meet his flatemates gaze. 

Sherlock stood slowly and made his way over to John. He slowly dropped to his knees to the side of the chair and laid his chin on the arm rest. “You have nothing to be sorry for John. This was all my fault. If I had remained dead, then none of this would have happened to you. I tried to protect you and look where it’s gotten us.” 

John smiled softly as he lifted the detective’s gaze to his own. “It’s gotten us back together in 221B and solving crimes like we use too." He paused before he added, "No matter what Sherlock, as long as you will have me I’m not going anywhere.” _Not by choice anyway._ He wanted to add but he just kept smiling down at the younger Holmes, who looked like a sad little puppy. 

Sherlock smiled up at him. “Whatever you want John. I will do it.” _Just please never leave me._ Sherlock wanted to say but he knew John would get understand.

John looked up towards Greg who had stood and made his way over to the couch to sit beside Mycroft. 

“I never thought I would be in love with the ‘Ice Man’ but here I am, sitting beside you and telling you…” 

Mycroft placed his finger to Greg’s lips to silence him. He smiled and he whispered, “I love you, Greg.” They kissed one another long and deep, grateful to have the other back in his loving embrace. 

Sherlock looked back at John and slowly stretched his body up so he was now eye level with John. “I love you John Hamish Watson,” Sherlock whispered but before he could kiss John, the doctor halted him by placing his hands on the detective’s chest. He looked towards the couch and was surprised to see Greg and Mycroft were no longer in the room or in their flat which secretly pleased him if he was going to take anything further steps with Sherlock. 

“Wait a bloody minute. What did you just say?” John snapped his focus fully on Sherlock now. 

“Nothing,” Sherlock mused. 

“Oi, bloody hell! How?” John huffed. 

“Oh, it was just a guess, I assure you.” 

“Lair! How did you figure out my middle…” John hissed but was cut off when Sherlock pulled him into a kiss. 

After a few minutes all become quiet. They were just basking in the moment when John finally asked, “If Jim's brother was the one that was suppose to kill himself that day on Bart’s and found a way out, how was he even able to fool Jim?” 

“With whomever he was working for, obviously,” Sherlock said as he sat on the floor in front of his own chair while John sat in it and began to run his hands through his unruly curls. Something John secretly wanted to do for a long time.

“That’s not what I meant. You were there Sherlock and I saw the after math. How could he have faked his death like a bullet to the brain?” 

“Fake gun, fake blood. It’s all just a magic trick,” Sherlock muttered. 

John’s hands tighten some in Sherlock’s hair and for once Sherlock realized his mistake. He spun around and saw the look of dread on John’s face and quickly embraced him. “I’m sorry John,” he said softly. 

“It’s okay Sherlock,” John said timidly. 

Sherlock pulled back a little more seeking John’s gaze. “Are we?” 

John focused his gaze on Sherlock’s. “Are we what?” 

“Are we going to be okay?” Sherlock whispered with a shred of hope in his words. 

John closed his eyes a moment and when he looked back at Sherlock the same butterfly feelings began to cause chaos in the bit of his stomach. “Yes, Sherlock,” came John’s hushed reply. “We will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always wonderful.  
> With that said, I will be writing a sequel to this story because I know there are soooo many questions that need answers too so it's not fully "over" yet.  
> Thank you for reading my story and I do look forward to the second part of what I have planned.  
> You all are amazing.
> 
>  
> 
> On a side note I'm super excited about something that will be happening very soon in my life.  
> I've been on cloud 9 some what about something that just kind of fell into my lap sort of speak.  
> So, I have been contacted by a friend to be apart of a writing team to help write/create for an upcoming streaming series.  
> I have a few concept ideas and I am truly excited to get started.  
> I will try to post when I can in part 2 but just know that this is happening.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. It means so much to me. 
> 
> I am working on creating a new comic book. It is light hearted and fun. Hope you enjoy it too.  
> https://www.facebook.com/normcomic/


End file.
